MORGAN'S MOMENT
"Can the sailboat tip over?"
Novices ask the question
    whenever the wind begins to blow
    and the boat is moving nicely.
It is a normal fear I suppose
    whenever your seat and feet
    don't line up with the horizon.
I always assure them —
    "No we can't tip over
     because of the ballast."
They may sound reassured
    but white knuckles on the rail
    betray continued anxiety.
The real truth is that it's possible
    for any boat with any ballast
    to experience a knockdown.
Mine never has and probably won't
    and is designed to pop right up
    if it should ever happen.
The same "self-righting" ability
    built into my boat
    is built into us.
When life knocks us down
    we give thanks to whomever
    for the ballast that sets us right.
- Art Morgan

SUMMER MINISTRIES
     The "moment ministries" theory is that we all are performing ministries of the moment in our daily activities.
     Paul has been doing weddings during the summer. Some very elegant.
     Don Whitney (our Washington Moment Minister) has a couple of weddings, one in the new Safeco Stadium (where the Mariner's play).
     Art has done his only scheduled summer wedding (June in California) and will be in Albany for a Memorial service on the 15th.

SUMMER BLUE SHEET
6nd Edition - Aug 12, 1999
MOMENT MINISTRIES
Summer Address:  2412 N Herron Road
Lakebay WA 98359   253-884-2771
a-morgan@peak.org

CAMP REPORT
     So far this August we have had some more blue sheet people (friends and family), including Jean's brother, Earl, Don and Beth Whitney (Don is our Washington MM associate) daughter Karen, Max and Kyle (for the second time), Sara Pritchard and friend, Jeff. 
     As we write, grandson Michael and friend are en-route. (He has a driver's license now).
     Friday we will greet Ron and Ruth (the Greene/Fletcher clergy couple from Spokane) who will stay over Saturday while we are gone overnight to Corvallis.
     Paul and Mary come to camp for a meeting of the Corporate Officers of Moment Ministries on the 21st. (No business talk allowed!) There could be others that weekend as well.
     E-mail messages come and go by the dozens. We are glad for the connection. On three different occasions Art has been called away from our guests to deal with phone calls involving deaths. Time has been spent constructing services from afar. 
     It should be understood that the sailboat has gone out with our guests at the tiller at every opportunity and that no sunset goes without our notice and appreciation.
     On the anniversary of my parent's marriage on August 9 we sailed over the place where their ashes were scattered, remembering them with appreciation.
    Bill Gilbert, our webmaster has added some new material, to our Web Page. Look for another Blue Sheet in 2 weeks.

the back page

VOWS AND PROMISES, ETC
      Been reading a book. The main guy makes a promise to his dying mother to take care of his schizophrenic twin. A deathbed promise that doesn't really help his brother and about drives the healthy one nuts.
      I think of vows and promises. Just did a wedding where bride and groom did "vows." They promised to be husband and wife "for better, for worse," etc..  I think of the odds that they'll keep that vow. Better than the lottery, but still a heavy gamble.
      Thoughts moved on to another fellow I know. Made a vow to be a minister, to enter "full time Christian service." One of plenty who stood at church summer camp campfires to make the promise. Hardly one in ten making that vow ever followed through. That left 9 in 10 carrying memory of a broken vow to God and everybody.
      Then there are people like me. I never expected to be a religious professional dropout. I saw it happening all through my career. More dropped out than stayed in. It's actually good for the seminaries. It's easier to recruit newly vowed clergy than to keep the ones they have. 
      Some of the vows we make are situational. Circumstantial. At some points in your life certain things make sense. It seems absolutely, forever true to stand in the front of the church and say "I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, and I accept him as my personal savior." I did that when I was 14. I didn't have a clue what it meant, but I was sincere. As sincere as I could be when I was 14. 
      10 years and three degrees later I was at the front of that same church promising to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ while a group of Elders and clergy prayed over me. I promised a lot of things that seemed to make sense at the time.
      As life moved on and my life experience and education changed, I realized that to hang on to the old vows didn't make sense. I saw others following vows they no longer believed. I saw others, like me, turn away from old vows. What I didn't want was to carry a load of guilt—to be like the brother of the schizophrenic, unable to leave behind a vow that was not binding. 
      Some people seem to exit their vows nicely. They divorce successfully. They laugh at their childhood vows in the sanctuary. They move on. For others, the old vows are dragged along like an anchor. Psychiatrists attempt to untie the knots that hold on. Or worse, the vows drive their makers to compensatory behaviors. People like me, who still dabble at the edge of the religion business have to ask whether we are really acting independently, or whether we are hanging by the thread to old vows not quite revoked.
      We make vows and promises with best intentions. Some are good and possible to keep. Others were right for us at the time, but no more. It takes courage sometimes to face up to the need to redo one's vows. Eternal vows should not become eternal chains.
— Art Morgan, Summer 1999