To love, really love is the most vulnerable thing. There is an openness we enter into, a gift we give, and one we are invited to receive. There is a standing there in that love and a breathing in of something that we know has caught us in a net of life that must then widen beyond ourselves in a risky norm shattering way. To commit to love is to trust, really trust and that is an incredibly hard thing sometimes to do.
Yet, this is the love that God calls forth from us. “Trust in me. Trust in my ways. Trust in the truth that is larger than your fears. Trust in the promises that will sustain longer than your days. Trust that it is worth dying for, the abundant life. Trust that all the change that comes with it, will lead in the end to the good.”
One of the women in my life who I always seek counsel from told me that strength to stand in love comes from the fire.
There is a sense that learning to love and love well is like learning to dance in fire. Sacrificial love that pours out oneself for others, that meets people in the middle, that pulls in the claws of harsh words and retributive actions, and stands in all that is right and just in the world catches us in a life changing heat that we have to learn to live in or we risk not really living at all.
To speak words of forgiveness to an enemy, to admit the ways you are wrong, to be quiet and let another speak, to risk harm coming to the skin of your body in order that the skin on another’s body might be honored as beautiful as yours, to stand in the threat where lines of division are cast, to know the cross is before you and to still carry on. Where does the strength come from for that?
We are more and more able to live love as we kneel for it and receive from the one who knows us better than we know ourselves, who can strip away illusions that we live with, rattle our skeletons till our closets are bare, and who chooses not to leave us in that vulnerable place alone, but chooses to enter in and love us from strength to strength in order that we might more and more be love in the world.
Strength comes from learning to dance in the fire of life. Finding our way in prayer, risking to stand in love in moments when it would be easier to sit, and trusting that strength rises in us as we risk a life that is more about God and others than ourselves. There is great vulnerability in this work of practicing love, we yield to it our very lives, and receive back from it life that makes more sense, for it is life lived in truth.
Martin Luther King Jr. named that “the ultimate measure of a man (woman) is not where he (she) stands in comfort and convenience, but where he (she) stands in times of controversy.” Our lives must be shaped by disciplines that allow us to be ready to live love in the moments of controversy, to be ready to stand for justice in the moments when we see it, and to know that practicing love takes strength and strength is raised up within us in the fires of living.
We are never without places to stand and practice love. The question is will we be vulnerable enough to enter each day more fully into the Jesus way of living? Submitting ourselves to the shaping fire is a vulnerable move that leads to great change in our being. As we allow the change in ourselves we do become part of the change needed in the world and I don’t know about you, but I don’t imagine the sidelines are the place we would find Jesus today. So, I encourage you to enter the dance in the fires that bring change.
With you on the journey,
I hope to see some of you this Wednesday as we are led through the Lord’s prayer by Emily Dao.
www.GroundUp.co.za (link to GroundUp)
Grace and peace to you and through you …
Last week in our reading from 2 Kings 5 we were introduced to two people. They couldn’t have been more different from each other yet we found them laying side by side, separated only by a tiny punctuation mark. In verse 1 we met Naaman, the commander in chief of King Aram’s army. In verse 2 we met a nameless slave girl. These two are polar opposites and yet connected. Connected in how Naaman was the cause for the girl’s capture and slavery and connected in how the girl was the catalyst for Naaman’s healing. I guess that is how it goes: we are either contributing to people’s oppression or liberation.
From Naaman we learnt that if we take any verse of our life and read it carefully we will discover contradictions. Naaman was successful and sick at one and the same time. Naaman was victorious on the battlefields of war and defeated in the secret chambers of his heart. We are always saint and sinner across every verse of our life. We see that a perfect CV does not a perfect life make. There are areas of our life that stubbornly refuse to be polished. Healing and liberation will escape us until we accept this unsatisfying fact, rather than anxiously try and fix it. Some things cannot be fixed. Some things thrive especially when we try and get rid of them. Some things feed on being fought. Some things only evaporate when we acknowledge them. Some things leave only after we have welcomed them. Perhaps this is what Jesus meant when he said: “Do not resist an evildoer.” Jesus then went on to instruct his followers to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Well long before Jesus spoke these counter-cultural-words, this slave girl lived them out. She lived them into being in relation to Naaman. She knew that part of the death that Naaman carried within his body resulted from the death he had caused to other bodies. So she wisely and bravely medicates him: “Go back across the border – this time not to pillage and murder – but to ask for help from those who have every reason to hate you.” Who doesn’t have places and people to return to because we left part of our humanity there?
She knew that if Naaman were to find healing it would be by grace alone and the healing itself would be grace. Grace is love we don’t deserve. Grace is most acutely known through the love of those who have every reason not to love us. If there are parts of us that can only be healed by grace then it means there are parts of our being that can only ever be healed by our enemies because our enemies have experienced us at our most sick, our most brutal and our most deadly. It is our enemy’s forgiveness that reaches to the depths of our dis-ease like no other. Their mercy manages to extract every last fiber of tumor twisted around our stone-like heart. The best surgeons are our enemies who have exchanged their knife of revenge for a scalpel of healing. No wonder Jesus says we should love our enemies.
May we find both Naaman and the slave girl within us.
Grace and Peace to you and through you …
South Africa is an extremely violent society. We cannot stand to absorb the full extent of this truth. To preserve our sanity we blot large parts of it out. We have become numb by necessity. As a people we carry high levels of trauma, and anger is never far from the surface of our living. A gun in this context can only spell death. There are many factors that contribute to our extreme levels of violence. Guns are one key factor. Removing the gun does not guarantee ending the violence but it does drastically reduce the lethality of the violence. Easy access to guns makes killing easy, more likely and more frequent, while strong gun laws have been shown, including within recent South African history, to reduce gun violence.
In such an extremely violent society it is a no brainer to legislate more stringent restrictions on gun ownership. Yet sadly this remains a struggle to achieve. Once again there are multitudes of reasons for this. The most basic reason is the continued belief that guns keep us safe. Sadly, because people are moved by fear more than the facts people acquire guns to keep safe, yet in the process place themselves in greater danger with the increased risk of accidents, fatal suicide, family-murder, femicide, as well as creating an incentive for crime that ends up arming criminals making society a whole lot less safe. Guns in the home place people within the home 3 to 4 times at greater risk in becoming a victim of gun violence.
The evidence shows that guns are excellent instruments of attack but are very poor instruments of defense. A 2015 FBI study shows that successful defense is outnumbered 34-1 by successful attack. And what is more, for every successful use of a firearm in defense there are 78 suicides and 2 fatal accidents by firearms. Even though this is what the evidence shows however, it is not what common logic holds on to.
I write about this for two reasons. First, because I have been attending a Gun Free SA seminar in Johannesburg this past week. Second, because I think we can transfer this behaviour of “common logic versus the evidence” into multiple areas of our life. We would all do well to check ourselves and better still to invite others to check us (because quite often we are blind to ourselves) on how our words and actions perpetuate the very things we hope to eradicate. In other words how we are part of the problem while we think we are part of the solution.
You can stop me
drinking a pepsi-cola
at the café
in the Avenue
or goin’ to
an Alhambra revue,
you can stop me doin’
some silly thing like that
there’s somethin’ you
can never never do;
you can stop me
boarding a carriage
on the Bellville run
or sittin’ in front
of the X-line
on the Hout Bay bus,
you can stop me doin’
some silly thing like that
there’s somethin’ you
can never never do;
you can stop me
goin’ to Grootte Schuur
in the same ambulance
or tryin’ to go to heaven
from a Groote Kerk pew
you can stop me doin’
some silly thing like that
there’s something you
can never never do;
you can stop me doin’
all silly things of that sort
and to think of it
if it comes to that
you can even stop me
there’s somethin’ you
can never never do –
ever stop me
~ Adam Small
Grace and Peace to you and through you
I think there is a deep part of us that demands immunity from the terrifying terrors of life. Our hidden fears drive this demand. We want exemption status from the basic unpredictability of life. We do not easily embrace the truth that our lives are exposed and vulnerable and fragile. As David Whyte says “… the personality continues to seek power over life rather than power through the experience of life…”. Yes we want to be in control of life and the difficult truth for us to bear is that much of life is beyond our control.
So what do we do?
Sadly, instead of accepting the truth of life’s randomness as a given, we often embrace the illusion of control, certainty and security. Sometimes our religious view or faith understanding feeds the embracing of this illusion. We project our desire for control onto God through the mantra “God is in control”. As if belief in God were some kind of insurance policy against tragedy and that somehow my belief in God is going to keep me safe in this unsafe world. If that be the case then all I can say is this “God of protection” has done a pretty lousy job over the centuries and as of late, with people being killed here, there and everywhere. Surely we have to ask: “What kind of God would favour me over them? What kind of God would protect me and not them?”. A selectively-protective-God makes no sense to me and I believe this kind of reasoning has more to do with my inability to accept life’s fragility than it does with the nature of God. If the life and death of Jesus teaches us anything, it is that no one is immune from life’s piercing.
This is why I personally do not pray for physical protection. God promises salvation not safety. Salvation is the gift of life in all its fullness… regardless of life’s circumstances. Therefore I do pray for salvation. I pray that in all of life’s unpredictable ups and downs I will be alive to God’s loving presence in my life and in the world. Rather than being granted immunity from pain, I want to be alive to God, to Love within the pain. For those with eyes to see, all of our lives are graced with this gift of salvation. One of the greatest privileges in my ministry is to witness people who under the burden of serious hardship or terminal illness embrace the harrowing truth of their situation as a new medium through which to experience the Divine. These people live and die differently – with light in their eyes.
Another catchy phrase that some of us like to say with the same purpose of gaining some control over the uncontrollability of life is: “Everything happens for a reason.”. Well of course everything happens for a reason otherwise it would not have happened. It is obvious, but when we say it we are not meaning it in this obvious sort of way. Rather, what we mean is that whatever has happened is part of a well-orchestrated plan arranged by God or caused by “the universe” (which is the non-religious way of referring to God these days). This often places horrific deeds at the foot of God’s door – as if somehow attributing God responsibility for the deed makes it less horrific or even holy.
Dare we accept the unpredictability of life as a gift that liberates life from an oppressive mundaneness? This does not mean that I resign myself fatalistically to “what will be, will be”. No. I have an ultimate hope that all things will be gathered up within the loving embrace of the Divine. As Martin Luther King Jr said: “we must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope”.
Toppie Town … watch this space!
Grace and peace to and through you
One of the prophets of our time, Chelsea Elizabeth Manning, currently serving a 35-year prison sentence for violating the Espionage Act in the USA, insightfully wrote in the wake of the Orlando killings at the Pulse nightclub, “[our] response can be more dangerous than the attack”. These words are rooted in the sad truth of history. We only have to think of the USA’s response to 9/11.
In moments such as these there is a temptation to reduce the reasoning for such events to a single source rather than a multiplicity of contributing factors that add up to more than the sum of their parts. Single framing is about scapegoating or exploiting the event for a specific agenda rather than unearthing the truth.
The first response by the authorities to the Orlando killings was to singularly frame it as a terrorist attack. This framing conveniently validates the “safety and security” narrative so often used by those in power to extract more and more concessions from the public, resulting in intrusive surveillance and ethnic and religious profiling. It is the purchase of a nation’s freedom using the currency of its fear. This terrorist framing also feeds Islamophobia as if the act of one is representative of all, which is never the case when a Christian commits a similar crime, then it is quickly labeled the act of a lone-wolf who does not reflect Christian values and teaching.
Using a singular frame to hold this event has more to do with blaming others so we don’t have to deal with our own complicity in the killings. Our complicity includes our religions that continue to marginalise Queer people. This includes the position of the Methodist Church that is both contradictory and hypocritical as it seeks to affirm the dignity of Queer people while at the same time stating that Queer people cannot be married and also be a priest. Further our homophobic culture makes it painfully difficult to come out as Queer and our fear of rejection leads to an internal massacre of our own worthiness often ending in suicide, but seldom making headlines. Our complicity includes our addiction to guns and the fear we have to address this issue. Our intellect crumbles in the face of pathetic slogans like “Guns don’t kill people / People kill people”. When actually it is people with guns who kill people – and we do so more easily and frequently with guns than we would be able to do so without guns. Our complicity includes our passive participation in a culture that is overly individualistic denying our interdependence with each other. Our complicity includes our uncritical acceptance of the segregated and homogenous communities we live in, making it easier to “other” others. Our complicity includes our shallow stereotyped understandings of masculinity as if a “real man” were called to be anything other than gentle and respectful of all.
The Orlando killings took place in a nightclub called Pulse. Pulse … as if messaging to those made to feel welcome there: “You have a pulse. You have a heart. You are human!” This is the affirming truth Jesus calls us to live out.
Call to Worship
Grace and peace to you in Jesus, who is killed over and over again when we kill each other,
And also with you.
We gather here in the beauty of this sanctuary to lift up our hearts to you oh Lord and to open our hearts to each other,
As we gather give us assurance Lord that you not only occupy the places of beauty but the places of pain.
The pain of Soweto ?76,
Carry us Lord as Mbuyisa Makhubo carried Hector Pieterson.
The pain of Orlando 2016,
As thousands gathered to donate blood, remind us you have already donated your blood to transfuse our fear and hate into love and respect.
The pain of family murder,
Let the children who have killed their parents hear your voice: “Let the children come to me…”
The pain of domestic violence,
You hear the screams behind locked doors – even celebrity locked doors.
The pain of a British MP and contesting counselor candidates in our land, shot and killed,
You were killed by some who thought killing was the solution, open our minds to see this lie.
The pain of our paralysis and despair,
May we hear today your liberating and healing words spoken to the paralysed: “Pick up your mat and walk … walk humbly, love mercy and do justice”. Amen.
There is a strive in life towards perfection that actually can be found in our recognizing our imperfection. Human beings were made in community, realized for community, and wired for it in our very being. The strive for perfection outside of the perfection that comes from the sacred dance of catch and release in community, will lead to an unrealized potential and an isolated reality, rather than the movement towards the community we are called to in the Christian faith.
At the core of it all is trust. Joan Chittister in her book, Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by HOPE, shares:
If we refuse to ask for help, if we distance ourselves from the strengths of Others. If we cling to the myths of authority and power where trust is needed, we leave out a piece of life. We condemn ourselves to ultimate failure because someday, somewhere, we will meet up with the thing we cannot do and our whole public self will depend on our being able to do it. It is trust in the limits of the self that leaves us open and it is trust in the gifts of others that makes us secure. We come to realize that we don’t have to do everything, that we can’t do everything, that what I can’t do is someone else’s gift and responsibility. I am a small piece of the cosmic clock, a necessary piece, but not the only piece. My limitations make space for the gifts of other people. Without the grace of our limitations we would be isolated, dry, and insufferable creatures indeed.(P. 69)
I ordered this book used on Amazon while I was home in the US. When I began to flip through it, I cringed. The person who owned it before me used several different colors of highlighters where I only use one color at a time, preferably lavender or blue—for they are easier on the eyes. The margins of the book were tattooed with writing that frustrated me as I tried to read through the chaos created on the pages.
Yet, somehow through the struggle, there was a blessing. For in the margin near the words above were these words from the previous reader: How can I convince myself that I am a necessary piece? How do I trust others to supply what I don’t have, when I have been so disappointed in the past? When I feel my vulnerabilities have not been met in the past? How do I join, be a part of the human community? Do I really have anything at all to give?
I re-read the book after my first read. This time I looked at all the passages highlighted and scribbled inscriptions carefully. There was such desperation in the reader and the desperation circled around this question, “Will I be accepted, how do I find my way to community?” The call is before us to recognize that if we have found a place, our role is to make a place for others to find their way too and to remember that Jesus was mostly with those who felt cast out. In their imperfections, He claimed them perfect. The Divine lives in each of us, living too alone denies the divinity in the others. Trust is the key. Trust in the love of God and love God gives us to share in relationship with the others we are called to live with in community. Finding our way to that trust is the dance of perfection.
With you on the journey,
Grace and Peace to you …
Last week we were in Namaqualand. Oh what a beautiful beloved country is ours. The never-ending landscape was breathtaking. Rugged rocks pronounced their presence as they punctuated the hard, dry ground forming lookout points to see further of the same. The earth was dusty, dry and hard. Dusty and dry from drought and over-grazing. Even the water was hard.
Adjacent to our Synod venue there was an outside art display created by some of the children from the local Methodist Church. Simple signs planted into the dry, hard earth. One read: “Sê vir God dankie. Hy meet nie genade in teelepels af nie.” (Say to God thank you. God does not hand out grace in teaspoons.)
Talking about teaspoons and drought … read these despairing and hopeful words by J.M. Coetzee in his novel Life and Times of Michael K:
“And if the old man climbed out of the cart and stretched himself (things were gathering pace now) and looked at where the pump had been that the soldiers had blown up so that nothing should be left standing, and complained saying, ‘What are we going to do about water?’, he, Michael K. would produce a teaspoon from his pocket, a teaspoon and a long roll of string. He would clear the rubble from the mouth of the shaft, he would bend the handle of the teaspoon in a loop and tie the string to it, he would lower it down the shaft deep into the earth, and when he brought it up there would be water in the bowl of the spoon; and in that way, he would say, one can live.”
Rev. Siphozihle Siwa re-elected as Presiding Bishop
“I received the news of my re-election whilst I was in Namaqualand, the first station among the indigenous people in our Connexion. The Superintendent Minister of the Namaqualand Mission, Rev. Sammy Muller said these words in response: “You are re-elected from the womb of Methodism in Southern Africa, and we are therefore happy to ‘deliver’ you to the world.” I am grateful to you as Methodist people for your faith in God that God can use even me in this ministry. Your affirmation and encouragement serves as an impetus for me to strive to serve you even better. For this I will need your continued prayers and support. May I be quick to say that prayers must not only be for me, but for all of us as we strive to be a “transforming discipleship movement, TOGETHER.” Be assured of my prayers especially for those who are at the coalface of things at the local level, because that is where significant service takes place.
I accept this call to serve with deep humility, trusting in the grace of the One who called all of us to follow towards the vision of a ‘Christ Healed Africa for the Healing of the Nations.’” (MCSA Ministers’ Monthly Newsletter)
Imam Rashied Omar
It is such a great privilege to have Imam Rashied Omar share the Word with us today. Rashied is a friend and colleague from whom I have learnt much. He has been the Imam of the Claremont Main Road Mosque since 1986. The Claremont Main Road Mosque (CMRM) was established in 1854 and is the sixth oldest mosque in South Africa. It was the second mosque to be built outside the Bo-Kaap. The mosque played a prominent role in the anti-apartheid struggle during the 1980s. This legacy continues to define the role of CMRM as socially responsive in the post-apartheid period.
Grace and Peace to you …
Today some of us are in Namaqualand. We have been attending our annual Synod since Wednesday. A few of us cycled up here while others travelled by bus. We are in Namaqualand because it is the 200th anniversary of the Namaqualand Methodist Mission Station – yes the Methodist mission work has been going on since 1816 – the mind boggles!
This building has a particular connection with the Namaqualand Mission because we have Rev. Barnabas Shaw’s tombstone in this building [front left on the floor] and it was Shaw who established the first Methodist Mission Station in Namaqualand in 1816. Barnabas Shaw began his ministry in the country among the Methodist soldiers attached to the various regiments stationed at the Cape – despite the Governor, Lord Charles Somerset’s refusal to grant him permission on the ground that “the soldiers already had their chaplain and that preaching to slaves might offend the ministers of the Dutch Reformed Church who were well established”.
Shaw writes in response to being refused permission: “Having received this answer I therefore left His Excellency and determined to commence reaching without it. My resolution is also fixed never again to ask any mere man’s permission to preach the glorious Gospel … If Lord Charles Somerset be afraid of offending either the Dutch Ministers or English Chaplains, I am not, and will therefore do my duty. In the course of a few days I began to preach, without any hindrance or interruption…” This means that the Methodist work began by an act of civil disobedience, reminding us all that our primary allegiance is never Caesar but God.
He soon left for the “interior”. After a few days on their journey and just beyond the Olifants River they met the chief of the Little Namaquas travelling to Cape Town to seek a Christian Missionary. This was on 4 October 1816. This “desert meeting” Shaw regarded as a “particular providence”.
At Lily Fountain they built the first Methodist Mission Station in South Africa. The first fruits of Shaw’s ministry was Rev. Jacob Links who in 1822 became the first South African to be ordained into the Methodist Church. Sadly in 1825 Rev. Jacob Links together with Rev. William Threlfall and Johanness Jager were ambushed and killed en route to establishing another mission – making them the first Methodist martyrs.
We know that the words and deeds by colonial missionaries were not all innocent or helpful. Sometimes colonial missionaries were patronising, disrespecting traditional beliefs and at times even murderously brutal. So our celebrations for the Methodist Missionary work cannot be without honest critique.
This reminds us that in all we say and do, regardless of how pure our intentions and strong our convictions, we must remember that we may well be hurting people rather than helping them.
May the story of the missionaries give us courage and humble us at the same time.
The Road to Namaqualand
Grace and Peace to you …
Last week we heard that unemployment rose to 26.7%. This figure however, does not tell the whole story because it does not include those who have not looked for work within the last month. So the real unemployment figure is more like 37%. This is a national average figure, meaning that some communities have a much higher unemployment rate. The stress and strain for mere survival for millions of people in our land is frightening and making social stability impossible.
Not surprising many people under these conditions turn to micro-lenders for salvation. I remember a few months ago when I was in Paarl seeing a long line of people queuing up outside a micro-lending office every morning. Here the poor and low-income earners pay more for money than the wealthy. So instead of being a means of salvation it becomes a quick route to damning debt.
According to one micro-lender’s website, I can borrow R1 000 for 30 days and repay the loan with R1 288.56 at the end of the month. But if my life ran into a speed bump and I was unable to pay the R288.56 interest at the end of the first month, within four months my interest bill would be up at R1 000, to be paid within 30 days. Imagine buying something and within four months the interest on whatever we bought was equal to what we paid for it!
With the pensioners from the Eastern Cape living in the Sanctuary we have been reminded first hand how some people are treated as invisible, like they do not matter. Marginalised and excluded without fair means to live. I hope this situation among us has prodded our consciences to work for the day when all people have enough to eat and live and flourish.
Last Sunday was Pentecost. Pentecost takes place 50 days after the resurrection of Jesus. 50 is the biblical symbol for Jubilee. Jubilee is the biblical concept of economic justice that includes the redistribution of wealth making sure that those who have much do not have too much and those who have little do not have too little. A community that seeks economic fairness is a Pentecostal community. This is what we are called to be.
P.S. If anyone has any contacts with the city to secure public toilets (at least some of them) to be open 24/7 please speak to me. The fact that homeless people have nowhere to go to toilet after 5 p.m. is criminal. This structural criminality turns the homeless into criminals when they are forced to go to the toilet in public.
“The radicals are really always saying the same thing. They do not change;
everybody else changes. They are accused of the most incompatible crimes, of egoism and mania for power, indifference to the fate of their own cause, fanaticism, triviality,
want of humour, buffoonery and irreverence. But they sound a certain note. Hence the great practical power of consistent radicals. To all appearances nobody follows them,
yet everyone believes them. They hold a tuning-fork and sound A, and everybody knows
it really is A, though the time-honoured pitch is G flat. The community cannot get
that A out of its head. Nothing can prevent an upward tendency in the popular tone
so long as the real A is kept sounding.”
~ John Jay Chapman (1862-1933)
Life is mysterious, it presents great challenges and incredible moments of wonder, but ultimately life is to be lived as gift. The unfolding of each new day presents for us opportunity to be a part of something so much greater than ourselves. There is wonderful music being threaded together all around us and our opportunity is to be still and quiet and see if our spirit can get caught up in the spirit of the music that is the sacred song meant for all of God’s creation. There is a song that is beautiful enough for the inclusion of us all.
During my travels, I sat with a man who taught me so much about the Spirit of God at work in the world, Rev. Keith Tonkel. He is celebrating his 80th birthday this year and his 48th year ministering at Wells Memorial United Methodist in Jackson, Mississippi. It is unheard of for a United Methodist Minister to serve so many years in one place. Keith believed his ministry was to grow a community lived love. Love is the ultimate creation song.
During the Civil Rights years, Keith was one of 28 ministers who signed a statement called the “Born of Conviction” statement. They were naming their commitment to spend their lives working to end segregation in the church. Keith was sent to Wells Memorial UMC as punishment for signing the document. The church was understood to be a dying congregation. He shares there were 13 people there when he arrived. His sermon was prepared and ready and when he touched the handle of the front door of the church something in his spirit made him think there was another sermon he was to preach.
Keith began to preach a sermon on the valley of the dry bones. After he was done, a member of the church came up to him and slapped him on the back and said, “We had decided if you didn’t have the courage to preach to us from that very text we were going to close the doors of this place.” Over the years, Wells has grown in number and the congregation is described to be the most inclusive congregation in the state of Mississippi.
Keith is one who truly drinks life. Outside of his house sits a cooler that says, “Drinks here are for postal workers.” When I shared I loved the cooler, he said, “Baby, you can’t have their drinks, but I have your favorite coffee right here, just for you!” I smiled and drank my coffee and drank the joy of being with one who reminds you to drink life and who knows how to live love!
Sitting with Keith, one might think his full spirit comes from an easy life, but that would not be true. His spirit song has lived through cancer, the death of his wife, the illness of children, and the harsh reality of being thought odd in a state like Mississippi for singing a song his whole career long that is a song that has rhythm and harmony for—ALL!
We live in a world where people need to hear music rising above the chaos, music that rises above anxiety filled hearts, and music that is a witness that stands against any doubt that there is a God with love great enough for all. This is our story. This is our song.
With you on the journey,