MORGAN'S MOMENT
“Do you have a religious preference?”
The intake lady doing her job
    computerizing me
    for a clinical procedure.
I hesitated giving a response
    pretty sure that my thoughts
    wouldn’t make much sense. 
She jumped into the void 
    with some suggestions
    she hoped I might like.
Her menu included:
    Catholic, Protestant, Jewish
    Other, or None.
I’m sure that if I’d said “Protestant,”
    she had a longer sub-menu
    I didn’t want to face.
To shorten the process
    I made a choice—
    “None.”
I chuckled myself down the hall
    apologizing to God as I went 
    about my lack of specificity.
One can be “None of the Above”
    and still be OK with the God
    that doesn’t care about “preferences.”
I don’t like preferences
    that we’re tempted to defend
    and shut us apart from one another.
  — Art Morgan  
May 26, 2000  
MOMENT SEASON ENDING HOOPLA!
THURSDAY EVENING JUNE 1
POTLUCK CELEBRATION OF SEASONS
GATHER AFTER 6:00
EAT AT 6:30
PAUL’S MUSIC AND ART’S ‘MOMENT’
25921 SW Airport Ave
MEMORIAL DAY CONCERT
Monday, May 29
Featuring Paul Pritchard and the LBCC Band
Popular and Patriotic Tunes
7 pm at the Majestic in Corvallis
Tickets $5 at the Door or Rice’s
FOR THE MOMENT…
We are hoping for at least one more publication of the blue sheet before shutting down for the summer. We may repeat last summer’s publication of semi-weekly blue sheets on our Web Page (thanks to the efforts of our Webmaster, Bill Gilbert).
The summer address for Moment Ministries after about mid-June (hopefully!) will be
     2412 N Herron Rd, Lakebay WA 98349
     (541) 884-2771 or e-mail a-morgan@peak.org
HOLY MOMENTS
I don’t usually expect to experience a “holy moment” in a church. This one was one of those ornate buildings from the Middle Ages, actually a monastery that supported itself by running a brewery. We were a tour group cruising the Rhine, being explained to by Father Leopold, head of that monastic order. He explained the various architectural features and statues and paintings—clearly a visual aids— from a time when people had no Bibles of their own and probably couldn’t read them if they did. 
The holy moment, at least for me, was being with 120 fellow shipmates, many quite secular, quite a number of Catholics of European origin, varieties of Protestants, and one couple I finally identified as non-observant Jews (since they ate bacon and pork). At any rate, we were not there for religious purposes. Father Leopold stepped to his podium, dressed in the garb of a monk. There was an automatic silence, a kind of reverence throughout our group. He faced the altar and crossed himself and said something either to or about Jesus (possibly apologizing for tourists in the holy house). His remarks were succinct and informative. Then he moved out into the center aisle in the middle of the nave and began a song-chant that echoed to the dome and touched the sacred in all of us. That part of our brain that responds to such events was stirred. Simple, dignified, brief. A holy moment.
the back page
A THEOLOGY FOR PROSTATE CANCER
      After 10 years of tests and biopsy reports, they finally got me. I’ve joined the club no man wants to join but is liable to no matter what. I have prostate cancer, hopefully early stage. The only thing worse than knowing you have it, is not knowing you have it. You can live with what you know better than with what you don’t know.
      One of the things you learn as a minister is that a whole bunch of people have big time problems. Most of us don’t know about them. Spend a half-hour in the waiting room of any of the specialties in a health clinic and you’ll get the picture. You’ll understand the meaning of “gut-wrenching.” Most people endure their difficulties pretty much quietly. And most can find others worse off than themselves.
      I have to admit that the news (that wasn’t that big of a surprise) set my philosophical and theological wheels spinning. Philosophically, I realize that being alive is a life-threatening condition. Something is going to hasten our exit from this world, sooner or later. We all hope and pray for “as later as possible.” And usually, the thing you think most likely to get you, won’t.
      The theology of the matter is something to think about. I have evangelical friends that assured me of their prayers at the time of my biopsy. One seemed shocked to discover that his prayers hadn’t been answered. He talked about Jesus having his time for everyone, and he guessed maybe Jesus had other things in mind for me. 
      I said, “I don’t happen to think that way. I don’t think Jesus is in the business of passing out cancer, or removing it.”
      He was still listening, so I kept talking.
      “I don’t think there’s a God or anything out there that makes specific intervention on behalf of selected individuals. If that’s so, there are bunches of people who ought to be way ahead of me in line.”
      Of course, one doesn’t want to cut off whatever supportive “energy” may be available as the result of caring and sharing of love, thoughts and prayers. It can’t hurt, and there is some evidence that it may help. I can tell you, however, of innumerable situations in my churches where many people prayed for healing results that never came. 
      It might be nice to be a recipient of a “miracle.” It would also be embarrassing. I have always thought that testimonials from people who claimed special healing were both speculative and self-serving. To believe that the world is subject to the random whims of a divine puppeteer requires a stretch of faith that I don’t have.
      What I do believe is that life is an amazing thing, and that life tends to want to live. I believe that there is healing in the world, and more specifically, within ourselves. How to claim this healing is not always clear. We are fortunate to live in a time when modern medicine has given us life-extending options to go along with the spiritual and mental gifts within. That doesn’t assure healing, but we are far better off in that regard than anyone could have imagined 100 years ago—or even 50.
      Psalm 90, one of my favorites, suggests that “the years of our days are three-score and ten, or by reason of strength, four-score.” You know, until recent years, most people didn’t get that many. I’m pushing hard on three-score and ten. It looks like I might have to push a little harder to make four-score. The reality is, there’s no safe place. There are no certainties. We are thankful for what we get and hope we use them well.
      My morning mantra is “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” My advice to myself (and others) is “Do not be anxious for tomorrow…Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for itself.” I add a line from our Moment closing song, “To take each moment and live each moment…” Each day of life is a great gift. The best way to appreciate a gift is to use it. To follow my own advice, the day after my diagnosis we were on our way to Europe to cruise from Amsterdam to Vienna. We pray for courage and grace to deal with whatever is.
    — Art Morgan, May 2000