Life Reflection
The summertime always invites good conversation and opportunities for reflection. In those moments, I gain better perspective on where I have been and where I am going. One of my recent beachside realizations is that at my current age, I can roughly divide my life into three equal parts. The first third spans from infancy through childhood, under the loving care and guidance of my parents. The second third moved me through adolescence, years of secondary and collegiate education, and a life in Arizona, the period where I gained independence, experience, and became an adult. In the last decade and a half, I moved to Pinehurst, where I have served Emmanuel Episcopal Church as a professional organist/choirmaster, and became a father of five children.
Life can be viewed as a series of choices, some made for us, and some made by us. Certainly, in that mix, is God’s providential hand. Sometimes we hear God clearly, sometimes we refuse to listen. Sometimes God seems to answer our prayers like the lottery, sometimes God answers our prayers differently. In all that I have been and done though, I know that God has always been present, even when I cannot feel it.
For me, my awareness of God, in the experiential sense, is present in the relationships I have had with other people. Human interaction, even if only momentary, seems to have some divinity in it. If we are all children of God, created in God’s image, then simply engaging ourselves with others is a way of experiencing the divine. Looking into the eyes of another, is in some small way seeing God. Loving one another is in some way, feeling the presence of God.
The older I get, the more confident I have become at articulating my own experiences of life and what they mean, or more accurately, what they mean to me. I may not be able to answer the timeless question of the meaning of life, but I am certainly influenced by the Christian journey I have chosen, or perhaps the Christian journey that chose me. Outside of the philosophic tenants and the pledges of faith, it has been through my walk as a Christian that I have met some remarkable people and I have been blessed beyond what I deserve by the people of this parish.
A few weeks ago, Dick James passed away at the century-mark and as a parish we celebrated his life on July 13th. His wife Barbara James (BJ) was singing in the choir when I arrived in 2010. She had just retired from serving as the choral librarian for many years for my predecessor Johnny Bradburn. Music and dance were her ministerial gifts, lovingly supported by her husband. When she retired from the choir in 2012, she had been singing for 70 years.
Dick and BJ lived on the corner opposite of the church and Dick would walk with BJ to and from rehearsals and on Sunday mornings. In October of 2010, at the conclusion of a Wednesday night choir rehearsal, during a time when we pray and share together, BJ related that that day was Dick’s 85th birthday. With Dick standing in the doorway, I remarked how amazing he looked. I asked him his secret, but before he could respond, BJ interjected without hesitation, “LOVE!” Dick was a wonderful man who built a good business in Southern Pines, raised a beautiful family, never knew a stranger, always had a joke to share to make you laugh, and was a constant supporter of the music ministry of our parish, even though he claimed to be tone deaf. His passing as, what I believe to be, the last World War II veteran of our parish, certainly marks the shifting of an era.
Another treasure I gained at Emmanuel, was my friendship with Martha Parsons, who passed away in July. Martha was a strong supporter of the music program and her encouragement through the years helped our music ministry grow and thrive. Even though some 40 years separated our ages, she and I shared a deep spiritual connection. When my best friend committed suicide in October 2023, her love and pastoral support kept me above water. In my years of knowing her, she would often phone me to check up on me and to keep up with church gossip. She had a deep love for nature and shared many plants from her garden with me. One year she brought me a whole tray of dwarf gardenias that she had rooted for me from the bushes in her yard. They now flourish in mine.
When my wife Amanda and I started a family, Martha was there with her love and support. She wouldn’t hesitate to crawl around on the floor at the church with the children and play with them. She liked to joke with Ashton about her nose. For birthdays and at Christmas she would give them thoughtful gifts. For a period, she ensured that the girls had their own copies of books that were influential to her as a child, including “Anne of Green Gables,” “Aesop’s Fables,” and “A Girl of the Limberlost.” As we shared an appreciation for nature, and knowing my deep love for the beach, Martha gave our family a 1,000 piece Beachcomber’s Companion puzzle for Christmas. We put it together for the 2nd time this summer in Martha’s memory. This Sunday her ashes will be committed in our Memorial Garden at 9 A.M.
This week, I reread some words that were written by the Rev. Stephen Zimmerman in April, after the passing of his wife Kathy. He wrote the following:
“A few years ago I had to give a meditation on the saying of Jesus to the thief on the Cross, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” I reflected on the meaning of each word and phrase: “Today;” “you will be with me;” “in paradise.” Only afterwards did I remember that Jesus’ promise was an answer to a prayer: “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.”
When we remember someone, they are alive to us; and when we forget them, it is as if they are dead to us. Jesus promises to remember us, and asks us to remember Him; and God promises to forget all our sins. And so, with the thief on the cross, we pray, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” that we may live in Him and He in us.”
Just before I left for vacation, I came across a stack of vintage sheet music that was in the cabinet in our living room. BJ’s daughter Lee had given it to me in 2017, and it was music that had once belonged to BJ and even BJ’s mother, a Mrs. Schumacher, who, like BJ, played the piano and sang. As there is a piano at our family vacation spot, I brought the music along. As I played Star Dust, I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire, Me and My Shadow, Summertime, and many other standards of a former time, I thought of the treasures I have in the people I have known. I remembered them and they are indeed alive. While in this moment I may not be able to look into their eyes or share a laugh, I know that today, Martha, BJ, and Dick, are with Jesus in paradise. Through Him, we are never forgotten, but instead, have eternal life.
