MORGAN'S MOMENT...
Crosses along the road…
    many with plastic flowers
    often at a sharp corner.

Something has happened there…
    no doubt terribly tragic
    that cries to be remembered.

In Mexico there are shrines…
    like miniature chapels
    a lot of them.

Our driver crossed himself
    while passing some…
    but not all.

Too much beer
    he said more than once
    shaking his head sadly.

He could have said
   “Too much speed…
    or, “He fell asleep.

How or why doesn't matter
    when tragedy happens…
    only the loss and hurt.

Why take the tragedy public…
    cluttering the highway
    with markers of a death?

Are these markers of a death
    or of a place and time
    when a soul took flight?

Some crosses and flowers fade…
     neglected maybe but not forgotten
     too soon replaced by others.   

— Art Morgan 

BOOK CORNER
George Lakoff’s, “Moral Politics What Conservatives Know that Liberals Don't” will make you think if you can stick with it. The authoritarian vs. nurturing parent metaphor is applied to major political and moral issues. Conservatives have used the concept while liberals haven't caught on. Like it or not, it will help you think, conservative and liberal alike.

MOMENT MINISTRIES
Mar. 9, 2006

home address:  25921 SW Airport Ave.
Corvallis, OR 97333   541-753-3942
email at a-morgan@peak.org

Between the blue sheets…
Doing whatever comes next, as I have occasionally described what I do, can keep you going. I wondered what kept me from getting out a blue sheet on its semi-occasional schedule. I keep a calendar, mostly to tell what I've been doing. I mark days away from home in yellow. A quick look shows a lot of yellow. In between are things like our gym days, a choir concert, a grandson's band concert and so on. I also read in three books. We were at the cabin to work on storm damage.
While at the cabin I attended the Tacoma Man to Man prostate cancer support meeting of about 50 men. I'm actually a member of the Steering Committee, the only committee I've been on in 28 years. Of course I never attend, making my comments by e-mail. When I'm present for the regular meeting, which is about 5 times a year, I am often called upon to do a closing “moment.” That makes me sort of a chaplain.
Back from the cabin for a night, we left the next day with Paul and Mary to LaGrande where we attended the Memorial service for Maxine Lorenzen, mother of Terry Lorenzen, one of our founding directors. We were treated as part of the family and hopefully were helpfully supportive.
Home again for a night we drove to the Oregon Coast during one of those windy and rainy days for a visit with Margaret and Betty Ann Dibb. Most don't know them, but they were friends from our California years. They now live in Medford. I have been pastorally involved and led the Memorial Service for Betty Ann's husband, Judge Al Dibb about 10 years ago. Betty Ann is on an intermittent chemo program which allows her a “good week” every other week. We went for a good day at the beginning of a good week. She is doing the days of her life with courage and grace and lots of laughter. It is an inspiration to spend time with people like that. And there are more around than you know.
So this morning there is a break in my schedule when I can write and get something in the mail before heading back to Tacoma on Saturday to attend a wedding for cabin neighbors of more than 50 years.
We will have driven almost 2000 miles in these weeks. I even rode the riding lawn more for a couple of miles around my yard!
Just yesterday news was on the front page of our paper about the death of a community icon, Charles Ross, father of Nancy Hathaway in our group. His memorial will pack the Unitarian Church on the 19th. Everyone has a Charlie Ross memory.

Thursday Night Moment
Oh, yes. Our local Thursday Night Moment happens on March 16. I plan to be there too. 
 
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MUSIC ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON


       My career, such as it has been, has been aided and abetted by some good musicians. If you know anything about the retail religion business, music is pretty important. In my case it is especially important due to my general lack of musical skill. I like it, but can't do it.
       I was thinking of this while mesmerized during a recent Sunday afternoon concert of Fauré’s Requiem. To have such a concert on a Sunday afternoon is an act of faith. It's not prime time for staying awake. And who needs a Requiem? But a great orchestra and choir pulled it off. My long-time colleague and friend, Paul Pritchard, had a major and difficult solo in the Offertoire portion. How he pulled it off, in Latin, no less, and with a French accent to boot, I can’t imagine. The choirmaster was quite pleased. Of course, I've heard Paul sing all sorts of things over 36 years. After all, he was the first person we hired when I moved to Corvallis in 1970, and he has remained the musician through all the 28 plus years of Moment Ministries.
       I thought of the choirmaster I inherited when we first moved to California. Ken Salter came with the very fine Tudor gothic sanctuary and a very fine pipe organ. His choir was enhanced by four paid soloists, which was the norm for high class church choirs I guess. He was an exceptional musician and director. I always felt like I was breaking into a holy moment whenever I stepped into the pulpit following one of his anthems. It was Ken who first led us into experimenting with non-traditional music which grew out of his Master's project at USC. He learned guitar to help it go. Although classical music was his personal style, he saw how the folk style drew people who weren't especially musically sophisticated. We created a separate service using that music. Ken and his wife, Marilyn, were personal friends during those years and have remained so ever since. I remembered that the only other time I heard Fauré’s Requiem was when Ken directed it in our church in California.
       Even my very first church was aided by music. The first organist we had couldn't even read music. But she was a good musician in other respects. Her inability to provide key notes for the bass and tenor sections greatly disturbed those singers. But she was great in keeping the tune line going with a decisive beat. The congregation loved to sing as she played that old electric organ. I believe that spirited singing helped move that church from nearly closing into a new building with double services. I was sorry when she moved, and even more sorry when she died in a tragic accident. She was succeeded by a well-trained organist who also had a close feeling for the spirit of a song and could help the congregation to sing. In later years, when being gay was a thing to make an issue about, I heard that he had left that church. If I had been there it would have been over my dead body.
       Some clergy are good musicians in their own right. I envied them. On the other hand, I had my hands full doing too many things already. I hope that I encouraged my musical colleagues and gave them space to do what they could do far better than anything I could imagine. My sense is that if I were doing a church career again I would make music an even bigger part of my agenda. While Lutherans and Episcopalians and some others seem to get by with what seems to me to be quite dreadful hymn singing, think what they might do with some help from my friends Paul and Ken. Of course, Ken once worked for the Lutheran's. I’ll have to ask whether I am misjudging. After all, it was Martin Luther who established Protestant hymnology based on bar room tunes.
       I'm swimming over my head right now. What I really wanted to do was credit my musical associates for a whole lot of the good things that happened to me in my clergying career.
       I was chatting with some of the singers after the Requiem. One was originally ordained in the Christian Church, as I was…and as Paul was. The other soloist was once a choir director in a Christian Church. None of them knew this about the others. I asked one of them about the words and the theology and the biblical interpretation of the texts in these songs. He said, “I don't pay any attention to the theology. I don't believe any of it. It's the music and the spirit that makes me sing.” Interesting, I thought, that spirit in music rises above the words. I always liked it best if the two connected, but in case of doubt I put my faith in spirit.
       Anyway, that's the report from a Sunday afternoon concert in winter. Sing on!
                                ─ Art Morgan, March 2006