America The Jazzy

My friend Tim is a jazz musician. Sunday, July 2, he played his own jazz rendition of America The Beautiful as a part of the service at our open-and-affirming-all-are-welcome-at-the-table church. It was a gorgeous musical offering as we sat looking out over the spectacular Columbia River Gorge, Mt. Hood looming tall and jagged and proud in the distance. Tim’s take on this classic American song had a beautiful but subtle dissonance to it. Dissonant describes noise that is out of harmony. It paints a picture of things that are in stark disagreement.

We are out of step with our fellow citizens, our voices out of harmony, and our ways of dealing with the issues we all face often in stark disagreement. What if jazz has something to teach us about how to be better Americans together as we wake up this Fourth of July, 2023?

Not being a jazz aficionado, a quick search turned up the following: Jazz has its roots in the African-Amercian communities of New Orleans in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and is often characterized by improvisation and syncopation.

• To improvise means to perform without rigid preparation, and to work with what is at hand. Improvisation is an invitation to let go of the notes on the page and be led instead by your ear and your heart. It isn’t about doing it the right way but about finding your way to new, possibly-never-before-heard music.

• Syncopation means stressing the normally unaccented beats. Those that are typically the strong ones take a back seat, stressing the beats that are generally not emphasized.

What if we began improvising a new America? One in which we let go of the rigid ways of thinking and doing that got us here in the first place, and let ourselves be led by our hearts and not the party line clamoring for our vote and our dollar.

What if we began to shake up the American way? Stressing the normally unaccented beats, and not suppressing the voices that have so much to contribute to our collective music.

Improvisation can be scary as hell, with notes that occasionally hurt the ear. But if we keep going, it can bring forth music more beautiful than any we could imagine. Syncopation catches us off guard. It can knock us off of our comfortable well worn course, which is our only hope of ever finding a new one.

America The Beautiful isn’t a proclamation.

It’s an invitation to sing a new song.

Together.

May God shed her grace on all.

Rural Lessons

There’s so much to learn from our rural neighbors.

Driving through our beautiful valley at the base of Mt. Adams, when passing another car heading the opposite direction, you wave. Not a big wave. Not a royal wave. Not a political candidate wave. Not a red carpet wave. Just a subtle wave. Hands on the steering wheel, one or two fingers lift in greeting in a small gesture that says whether I know you or not, I see you, and you see me.

We need more of that in this country.

The snow is here. There’s a least three feet on the ground and it’s not showing any signs of letting up soon. Because we live on a private road the county doesn’t plow us out. Nor should they. They have more than enough work on too small a budget just keeping the roads we all depend on clear so that people can get to work, kids can get to school, and life can keep going. That means that we are dependent on the help of others to take care of our road. And they do. Whenever it snows we can count on our neighbor George. He just shows up and plows for as long as the snow lasts, and then we settle up at the end of the season. But today, after giving it a valiant effort, he told us that the snow was just too much for his equipment. As it turns out, shortly thereafter he was at our little General Store to warm up with a cup of coffee where he ran into Casey, another neighbor. George asked Casey if he could take care of our road today. Fifteen minutes later Casey showed up on his commercial grader and got er done.

We need more of that in this country.

Driving into town the other day we passed Keith. A local rancher, he and his family raise cattle, grow alfalfa and sell timber. On this particular day as we drove through their ranch, the sun hadn’t come up yet. It was cold and dark and the cattle needed feeding. And there he was, unloading bales of hay onto the ground for the waiting cattle, steam rising from their breath in the cold morning air. Staying inside for another cup of coffee or waiting till tomorrow when the weather might be a little better wasn’t an option. When you’re a rancher, it’s up to you. And because it’s up to you, you just do it, and then get up the next day, and do it again.

We need more of that in this country.

We moved here from the big city fifteen years ago, and it’s safe to say that we cast our votes differently than the majority of our rural neighbors. The lens we look through is probably quite different than theirs. After the 2016 presidential election we were heartbroken and scared for reasons that made sense to us. After the 2020 one, my guess is that many of our neighbors experienced those same feelings for reasons that made sense to them. And yet. We all find ways to come together. We help each other out, cheer for our high school basketball team, lay side-by-side on cots in the school auditorium as we give blood at the annual Red Cross blood drive, show up with our families at the annual Father’s Day Rodeo, and fly our flags for a country we all love, and are all worried about.

We need more of that in this country.

Dear Us,

Tiring of waiting for the election results to become official, I started composing an open letter to Congress.

It was more like an open postcard.

Dear Elected Officials,

Stop blaming the other side and get to work building a country that works for all of us. And if you won’t do that, shame on you.

But before I can send that postcard to our elected officials, I’d better mail one to myself. And while I’m at it, to every other person who calls this broken country of ours home.

If we don’t stop blaming the other side and get to work building a country that works for all of us, then shame on us.

Because It isn’t just up to them, it’s up to all of us.

Grace Y'all

We are going to need a lot of grace y’all.

One way or another, we are in for a wild ride after this election. And by all accounts, it could get pretty ugly out there. Much of what happens post election is out of our control. The one thing that is completely under our control, the only thing that ever really is, is our response.

Let’s not contribute to the ugliness. Let’s make a pact with ourselves to bring the best of who we are to each other, and to each and every day. Because that is what it’s going to take, no matter how things shake out.

Like I said, we’re going to need a lot of grace.

Let it be so.

Amen.

Musical Chairs

I’m writing this before election results are in, and because it is weighing so heavily, I decided I needed to take a light-hearted approach.

Regardless of some sort of changing of the guard, one thing that hasn’t changed on this morning after the election, is that we still have the same problems we had yesterday. Unfortunately, the political climate will probably remain unchanged as well. I’m not hopeful that all of a sudden there will be more good will and reaching across the aisle. I’m not counting on those we’ve elected to choose to come together in the ways that would be good for us all. I’m afraid that insanity will prevail, as elected officials continue doing the same things, hoping for different results.

However, as Albert Einstein famously said, "We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them.”

While I’m sure this would never fly, how great if it could. What if, after the newly elected members of the house and senate are sworn in, in the presence of their colleagues, every single one of them was blindfolded, and to the booming sound of America The Beautiful, they all had to engage in a patriotic game of musical chairs. Like when we were kids, they would keep moving until the music stopped. They would then sit down, take off their blindfolds, turn to their new neighbor, and regardless of party affiliation, put their heads together to begin to find common sense solutions to one of our many common problems.

Extra points for doing it naked.

Hallowed or Hollow?

…with liberty

and justice…

for all.

                               

Today we vote.

Tomorrow we get back to work.

All of us.

Because that’s what it will take if we want those hallowed words to ring true, and not hollow.

Remembering Our Affection For One Another

"But, we have always had so much more in common with each other than in disagreement."

Senator John McCain

Recently, during a conversation about our deeply divided country, and the concern we share for its future, a friend said something I haven't been able to forget: 

"We need to remember our affection for one another."

Those words resonated deeply, and they continue to reverberate in my heart like an echo off of the walls of a deep canyon. They ring as words of a distant truth that we once knew, but are in danger of forgetting.

"We need to remember our affection for one another."

As citizens, it seems we are increasingly choosing to stand on opposite sides of a deep canyon, shouting across the widening chasm at one another. I wonder, if we stopped shouting, and bent our ears to the canyon edge, might we hear the distant echos of our shared affection for one another? 

"We need to remember our affection for one another."

While I never voted for him, and I often disagreed with his perspectives, I've always felt a deep respect for Senator John McCain. I felt a kinship with him as a fellow American, and I am saddened that his fierce spirt has left the earth. But I imagine if I were to bend my ear close to the edge of the canyon, I would hear his words ringing back...

"My fellow Americans, we need to remember our affection for one another."

I offer this post in honor of and in gratitude for Senator John McCain, and am humbled and inspired by his final words below. 

A final statement from Sen. John McCain, who died Saturday at 81, read by his spokesman Rick Davis:

"My fellow Americans, whom I have gratefully served for 60 years, and especially my fellow Arizonians, thank you for the privilege of serving you and for the rewarding life that service in uniform and in public office has allowed me to lead. I've tried to serve our country honorably. I've made mistakes, but I hope my love for America will be weighed favorably against them. I've often observed that I am the luckiest person on Earth. I feel that way even now as I prepare for the end of my life. I've loved my life, all of it. 

I've had experiences, adventures, friendships enough for ten satisfying lives and I am so thankful. Like most people, I have regrets but I would not trade a day of my life in good or bad times for the best day of anybody else's. I owe the satisfaction to the love of my family. One man has never had a more loving wife or children he was prouder of than I am of mine. And I owe it to America to be connected with America's causes, liberty, equal justice, respect for the dignity of all people brings happiness more sublime that life's fleeting pleasures. Our identities and sense of worth are not circumscribed but are enlarged by serving good causes bigger than ourselves. 

Fellow Americans, that association has meant more to me than any other. I lived and died a proud American. We are citizens of the world's greatest republic. A nation of ideals, not blood and soil. We are blessed and a blessing to humanity when we uphold and advance those ideals at home and in the world. We have helped liberate more people from tyranny and poverty than ever before in history. We have acquired great wealth and power in the progress. We weaken our greatness when we confuse our patriotism with rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence in all the corners of the globe. We weaken it when we hide behind walls rather than tear them down, when we doubt the power of our ideals rather than trust them to be the great force for change they have always been. We are 325 million opinionated, vociferous individuals. We argue and compete and sometimes even vilify each other in our raucous public debates. 

But, we have always had so much more in common with each other than in disagreement. If only we remember that and give each other the benefit of the presumption that we all love our country, we'll get through these challenging times. We will come through them stronger than before. We always do. Ten years ago, I had the privilege to concede defeat in the election for president. I want to end my farewell to you with heartfelt faith in Americans that I felt so powerfully that evening. I feel it powerfully still. Do not despair of our present difficulties, we believe always in the promise and greatness of America because nothing is inevitable here. Americans never quit, we never surrender, we never hide from history, we make history. Farewell fellow Americans. God bless you and god bless America." 

POLITICO

"We need to remember our affection for one another."