RESOUNDING JOY:Moment of Reflection

The other night Jane and I watched a virtual presentation by the organization known as RESOUNDING JOY. It was with great satisfaction and appreciation that we heard of the wonderful music therapy ministry this amazing organization provides. It uses music therapy to bring healing and hope to so many hurting people: military veterans, survivors of torture, children facing life threatening illnesses, lonely elderly and more. This is a very impressive list and it brought joy to me to just image all those people who find hope and peace through music therapy provided by this wonderful group. I also noticed that in all the credit references the founder and Executive Director was never mentioned. That is Barbara Reuer. I am sure this omission of any mention of her was completely with her approval-and maybe even at her insistence. Barbara is a very competent and caring individual who in the interest of the greater good always suppresses any personal ego needs. Listening to the moving testimony of so many brought my mind back some 20 years to a simple lunch at a Thai restaurant in Solana Beach. I was there at the invitation of Barbara. She shared with me how blessed she was to be one of the first in our nation to get a PhD in Music Therapy. She shared her pleasure in using music to bring healing to many, including hurting people in our Lutheran congregation. However, she also shared two frustrations. She felt there was so much more music therapy that could be done through churches and she felt that her contribution toward making that happen had been way too limited. She felt so frustrated that she wanted to make a major change in her professional life. She wondered if she could perhaps start an organization with the goal of reaching congregations across the USA and equipping them to do music therapy. Her dream, of course, had one major obstacle and she had no idea how to overcome it. She had no money and knew of no source to get start-up funding. Now she may or may not have known that I was associated with an organization which did exactly that: provide funding for charitable start-up organizations. At the time it was called Wheat Ridge Ministries now called WE RAISE FOUNDATION. Its mission statement was clear: Provide Start-up funds for organizations bringing healing and hope. 

Barbara and I wrote a proposal requesting, I think, $45,000.00. The grant was made. Barbara did the rest. Her exact plan of delivering music therapy through local congregations did not work out but the alternative which she developed which utilized music interns from around the country to do focused ministry in a local area like San Diego has been a smashing success. Every day people and organizations from all over San Diego county are being restored and given hope through Barbara’s wonderful organization with special thanks to many people and other organizations who provide their money or in-kind contributions. It is all great. And I have the quiet satisfaction that I, too, got more than just some good Thai food out of that wonderful lunch with Barbara Reuer.

Covid-19 It’s a Hoax

 I keep hearing the message:” Mel, don’t be so concerned about Covid-19. It is a hoax. Last month I went to Texas to attend a Celebration of Life for my sister-in Law Elaine. It was a simple, yet profound ceremony at my brother John’s home. There were 28 of us there; three (3) of us wore masks. The message: The virus is not so bad; in fact, it is mostly a hoax. My sister Darline skipped the “mostly”. It’s a hoax, she was convinced. She cited as an example the deaths in the home for the elderly in her hometown. “We have had more than a dozen deaths in the home,” she affirmed. “They said it was all from the Virus. I don’t believe it for a minute. Those poor old people all died of loneliness! This whole thing is a hoax!” I have a good friend from church whom I admire. He scoffs at the idea of taking all these unnecessary precautions. His argument “We are all going to die sooner or later. What is so bad about dyeing now rather than later? I am happy to take my planned trip to Minnesota or Chicago or wherever. If I die it’s because my hour has come…And as far as our church is concerned, let’s get together NOW and worship as the family we are !” We have a President (for another few weeks ) who refuses to wear a mask, who gathers crowds, who wants everything open. He himself had Covid, People around hm by the tens are unable to come to work because they have the disease. His message, “Ignore it. If you just ignore it, it will go away. Just be as smart as I am: Recognize a hoax when you see one !” On TV news this evening I heard of a woman who had lost her husband and two other members of her family. Her conviction, “I don’t know what they died of, but I am sure it was NOT Covid. That Covid stuff is just bull --!” My reaction: I believe the health experts. I hear the number of deaths from Covid in the world, our country and San Diego County. And I wear my mask. I don’t have guests in my apartment. I pray for patience and an answer to my impatient prayer, “ From this deliver us, Heavenly Father.”

Mighty Mentors of Ministry

My wife and I live in a Retirement Community. Because of vulnerability to Covid-19 we are almost in a lock-down situation. After more than three months it really got to me. I felt locked in. Then came all the social unrest, massive crowds, Black Lives Matter and looting of property - day after day after day. I watched it all and got depressed. “All this is going on and I am not making the slightest bit of difference for anyone! What’s the point of living!”

 

The phone rang. It was Shamayel Ameri, a Muslim woman here from Afghanistan. She fled from the Taliban because she was next on their “kill list”. She thanked me for what I have been doing for her for six years. Her call reassured me. Sometimes the call to make a difference is to simply make a difference in one person’s life.

 

That is my call today. Find one person. Learn from and influence that one person. Have that person be someone of a skin color, ethnicity or sexual orientation other than yours. Get to know that person. Be a friend and mentor. Listen. Learn. Eat at each other’s home. 

 

My life has been enriched by just such relationships with a Chinese descendent of Confucius, the lone female Lutheran school principal in an LCMS District with 117 schools, a gay family member, a black principal of a Lutheran school. Each made a difference in my life and just maybe I made a difference in theirs. 

 

COVID-19-No.3

We are nearing the end of month 5 of being prisoners in our apartment. I write this Blog not because our experience is particularly unique. I write it so that when this is finally over I will have a record of some of my activities (or lack of them) and thoughts.

 

Realities: We are allowed no visitors from the outside. We cannot be legally barred from leaving these premises but we are under urgent appeals to just stay home. Jane has left this facility only twice in all these months. She and I went to friends Dick and Cheryl one evening for an outside gathering (6 feet apart ) where we shared drinks and broiled steaks. I have left once a month: I drive the car to get the battery recharged. It has already died twice because the car just sits idle. Jane joined me on one of those little trips just up and down the freeway. I went to the grocery store twice and to an eye doctor once. The administration here does not want us to go to any neighbor’s unit for a visit and/or cocktails and we have honored that.

 

An attempt was made to open one dining room. That lasted about 4 days as it just didn’t work. Our daily allotted time for our meal was 11:40 am and we just skipped that as we still had the option of food being delivered to our room. We have a daily choice of a couple appetisers, an entre, a couple vegetables, a dessert and a drink. The quality and presentation vary, some days wonderful; other days attractive to neither the eyes nor the palate.

 

Fitness centers are closed. All group activities halted. The administration tries very hard to adapt. Just this morning they announced that the fitness center equipment will be moved outside under tents and will be available by reservations. Of course, there are 15 minutes between users as everything has to be wiped clean after each use. This afternoon I may try ping pong for the second time in over 25 years -outside while wearing a face mask

 

After a couple months of not having maids come to clean our units we now have that option available to us. New move-ins had been halted but are being resumed with all new residents subject to two consecutive negative test results. Packages are being delivered by staff after they have been sprayed and sanitized. The number of packages being delivered is very high as almost all shopping is now on-line

 

Our congregation has held no on-site worship services. Online there is a full Sunday morning service and an abbreviated one on Wednesday evening. Jane and I set up a beautiful little altar each Sunday. We place the bread and wine on a lovely small silver tray (courtesy of Hong Kong International  School).We have an appropriate ivory figure of Christ looking down upon the communion elements.

 

The Calvary Men’s Support Group (9 of us) which I helped organize more than 10 years ago now meets for an hour each week via phone. It is good to share joys and concerns and whatever topic is chosen for the evening.

 

As I was typing this the doorbell rang. It was staff coming with special treat options. This time they included coffee, tea, hot chocolate and coffee cake. At other times we have had choices like ice cream cones, Mai Tais, Margaritas, Bloody Marys, candy, et sim. Twice a week we get fresh fruit, breakfast rolls and hardboiled eggs. We are not going hungry or losing weight. In this community of well over 1000 residents and staff we have had 8 cases of infection, none requiring hospitalization. None of the infected were residents in our Independent Living section.

 

The owners have not laid off any staff but had to make many reassignments as the required duties varied greatly, especially in matters like food and package deliveries, cleaning all railings, door entries et al. While a group of residents gathered names for a request that monthly fees be frozen for next year management responded that that was not possible. They warned that increased costs especially for insurance, food preparation and delivery and hundreds of tests will result in a fee increase beginning in January.

 

Much alone time is used by Jane and me in a variety of ways. I make lots of phone calls to fellow residents and to members at our church. I read at least one book a week on Kindle and hard copy. Jane has finished her 500-piece jigsaw puzzle and is now working on a very detailed 1000-piece one. Both Jane and I walk about 6 times a week. For the first time since we have been here at La Costa Glen we have watched movies on the closed channel which shows films selected by the staff here.

 

Every morning in our daily devotions we give thanks for the incredible blessings we experience in the midst of all that is going on. We pray for a stopping of both racism and inexcusable violence, even if it is in the name of seeking some needed cultural changes. We ask for people to act responsibly and for God to act graciously to stop the spread of the virus. We parade before God the names of family members who are very ill, of friends who have experienced deaths, of those who have lost income. School children and those who teach them are very high on our list of concerns. And so the list goes on. In the midst of it all we rest contentedly in the arms of One who loves us and in community with any of you who might actually read this Blog. 

 

 

 

White Privilege

 Our country is in an uproar. The on-going and growing threat of Covid-19 has kept me house-bound for 3 months. Millions of lives around the world and here is the USA have been severely disrupted. The swirling social unrest, first aroused to protest police brutality, has morphed into much more- some of which is very disheartening and inappropriate. Near the top of the list of matters to contemplate has been the topic “White Privilege”. I have reflected upon that topic and have once again become aware that I have indeed been (and continue to be) someone who has benefitted from White Privilege. I decided to make a partial list and to share it. Here it is.

EDUCATION I went to excellent Lutheran elementary and secondary schools. Neither one would have allowed my enrollment had I been black. To the best of my knowledge there was not even a black public school available within 10 miles of my home which I could have I attended had I not been white.

PROFESSION I became a Minister of Religion in The Lutheran Church. Had I been black I would have had the option to attend one very low-quality Lutheran College in Selma Alabama. But If I graduated from that school there is no way on earth that I could have served in any white church organization if I had not been white. I cannot conceive any of the positions that I held in the first 30 years of my ministry as being open to a black person-even if somehow or other that person had a PhD degree.

HOUSING I lived for years in rental housing in areas in which there was strong agreement that the owner would rent to whites only. When I bought my first home in Crestwood, MO it was in an area where all agreed that no house would be sold to a black person.

TRANSPORTATION Much of my transportation while in high school and college was via hitch-hiking. Had I not been white I would have stood in vain on the side of the road with the thumb sticking in the air. When I took public transportation, I could sit in front of the bus while the Blacks had to sit in the designated area in the back of the bus.  When I took the train to go to college I rode in the “whites only” coach. In the train station I drank from the “whites only” water fountain and used the “whites only” rest rooms Interestingly enough just a few years ago I was on an international flight from the Middle East through India. When I boarded the flight in Abu Dubai I noticed almost all the passengers were of a skin color other than mine. We had been aloft only a few minutes when the white flight attendant came to my seat. She said, ”Sir, I have an open seat up in first class. Why don’t you come sit there?” 

  

POLICE Fortunately I have not had not many encounters with the police. I think I have been stopped about 8 times and got 2 tickets for speeding. Each time the police were very professional. They never asked me to step out of my car. While I cannot prove it, it is my fear is that had I been Black it might very well have been more threatening. I suspect (but cannot prove) that I encountered White Privilege.

Thank God many of the privileges I enjoyed are now available to all. Unfortunately, that does not mean that all disadvantages for people of color have been overcome. I need only to look at the topics like education, profession, housing, transportation and police to see that there continues to be inequality in access.

I reflect on all of the above in this week of the 4^th of July. I thank God for the privilege of living in the United States of America. I make a vow that I will make an extra effort to do my part that the vision of our wonderful constitution, “to form a more perfect union”, might become a reality.

Generosity

Generosity Moment: No. 1

It was in the 1950’s. I was at Sunday worship in Hong Kong. The hall was packed with refugees who were fleeing the threat of death at the hand of Mao Tse Dung. The preacher Andrew Chui was someone who him fled as he had been an officer in Chiang Kai Shek’s military. But this Sunday he was preaching a powerful sermon  about the unlimited grace of God and our response.

I noticed an old woman sitting to my left in the row in front of me. She was obviously very poor -dressed in the cheapest totally black dress available anywhere. But she was paying very close attention to every word of the sermon; obviously being very moved by the message of grace and gratitude. Soon it was time for the offering. As the plate reached her I noticed her hand move to her right ear. There she carefully removed her small stud earing made of jade. She carefully placed it into the offering basket and passed it on to the next fellow worshipper.

Generosity Moment No. 2

The year was 1970. My son Tim was 10  years old. He had taken on a challenging job for a 10 year old boy. He ha in Ann Arbor, MI.. He had to do it not only on Sunday but also during the week because the church was running an early childhood program. But he was highly motivated and did his work faithfully.

His motivation came from his desire to have ping pong table for our basement. He had seen a used one advertised for just $20.00-which he did not have. So he resolved to shovel that snow at 50  cents  per time. He faithfully stored his hard-earned cash in a glass fruit jar carefully stored on a shelf in his bedroom

His earnings had come to $13.50 and he was excited because he was more than half way home. 

Then Missionary Heinz -visiting form Hong Kong arrived as a visitor at our home He recalled his work among those very poor refugees escaping Mao Tse Tung-fleeing for their lives. He  especially talked of young kids who lived in make-shift huts on the hillside. He explained that they did not have the money for school fees so were growing up unable to read or write. He told of how each morning they lined up in front of a truck operated by Lutheran World Relief where they were given a glass of milk-which was their total breakfast. Tim listened very carefully and I noticed he was very quiet.

After a while he left. He went to his room and returned with that jar of his hard earned cash. He handed it to Missionary Heintz and said, “Here, take this. Help those kids get enough to eat.”

Tim is now 60 years old. I know he still tithes. Just last December he caed and said that he and his wife had calculated their annual earnings an were now writing checks to the charities of their choice. He was paying is tithes and asked me if I had a favorite charity which he could help support.

Scars

The magazine “The Christian Century” has an interesting little writing competition. At regular intervals the magazine selects a single word. It asks writers to submit an article of less than 1000 words on that topic. This month the topic was simply PLATE. The next topic is SCAR. I decided that my reflections on that topic did not merit space in the magazine, but I did want to write on that topic and post it as a BLOG. So here it is.

I have what I will call a scar in my body which I think is unique. I was actually unaware that it was in my body until I was in college. There I played football. I fell and broke my ankle. When the Dr. looked at the x-ray. He immediately saw the fracture. However, there was another scar that interested him more. He asked me “Do you know that you have a pin embedded in the flesh of your ankle?” I did not. He explained that the x-ray clearly showed a full-length pin 

firmly embedded there. “It is not a needle,” he said. “There is no eye. It is a metal little pin about 2 inches long. It seems so firmly in place that I think we will just let it stay right there.”

I have no idea just when I stepped on that pin as it could have been at almost any time in my life. I went barefoot at least 10 months of every year. My feet and toes were often filled with stickers, or were punctured by nails, step edges or cactus. etc. I do not recall ever unsuccessfully asking Mother to try to remove something sticking in my foot. When I told Mother about this, she was concerned that the pin might move. She even imagined it moving all the way to a vital organ and causing mortal danger. I never worried about that.

It was about 10 years later. I played some basketball with my Chinese students in Hong Kong and injured my ankle. When I had it x-rayed once again the Dr. was not so concerned about the bad sprain, but he did excitedly point to a little 2-inch long mark on the x-ray. “That is a pin!” he exclaimed, “Looks like it has been there a long time.”

And since I tend to do things in threes, I repeated this experience one more time. So now I assume that pin still happily resides there after some 80 years. It is an invisible scar until it shows up on x-rays and I am happy to just let it rest in peace.

There is a second much more obvious scar. It is on my right side of my abdomen just below the waist. It is a reminder of when I had appendicitis at about age 7. That scar experience very nearly cost me my life. I had a punctured appendix. The puss and other materials completely swamped the whole area. This was before penicillin. The doctors were surprised that I survived. I just remember three things about that ordeal of almost 90 years ago. My dad and Uncle Reinhold Leschber took me to King’s Daughters Hospital in Temple. Mother really wanted to be with me, but she had to stay home with the 4 other little ones, including an infant. The ether was terrible. A small nurse told me she would wait for me to grow up and would then marry me and I believed her. And my mother told me that after that experience I became a slow runner. “You used to be the fastest boy of your age”, she said. “Now you are among the slowest.” I don’t need to look at that scar these mornings to be reminded that I have indeed slowed down a lot.

When I looked for it this morning, I found that my third scar has actually disappeared. It was right there above my right eye near my hairline for decades. I was maybe 10 when I needed to cut a string. I went to the kitchen, got the big ten-inch knife, pointed it upward through the string and pulled hard. The knife was sharp. It went right through that string, all the way up to my forehead just above my right eye. The gash was substantial. The blood flowed freely. Embarrassed and scared I ran and showed it to my mom. My Aunt Maddie happened to be visiting. She joined the Mother in the decision “Let’s not bother Dr. Weidemeier. We will just patch it up. Put some monkey blood (mercurochrome) on it and it will heal.” It healed. The scar remained for decades.

I write this BLOG on May 13 the day my Mother would have turned 118. She would remember all of this and then sum it all up with “God always took care of you, Melvin, and you needed that!”

Graduations - Past and Present

May is the month that I think about graduations, especially in the year 2020. It was on May 10, 1945 that I graduated from Concordia Academy in Austin, Texas. So, this marks the 75^th anniversary of that wonderful event. I was honored to have Mom and Dad drive from Walburg to attend accompanied by my Aunt Elizabeth from Austin and a “sorta” girl friend from Thorndale. I still remember the theme of the guest speaker: “He (Christ) must increase. I must decrease.” The party afterward was not very extravagant a trip to an amusement park where I invested 25 cents to hit some balls pitched to me by a machine. It was a wonderful miracle that I could graduate from this boys-only boarding school, a school devoted to training future ministers of the church. The national church paid for the tuition and parents were responsible for room and board. This was a major challenge to my father who was a teaching minister in the Lutheran church working for an extremely low salary. In fact, one reason I was able to attend is because my eldest sister Erna gave up a college scholarship to become a secretary and thus provide some assistance in paying for my school fees.

A second graduation took place in late May 1950 from Concordia Teachers College (now University) River Forest, Illinois. This year marks the 70th anniversary of that event. Again, Mom and Dad scrounged up the money to drive from Texas to Illinois to attend. More important to me than graduation is that just before we went to the ceremony, I handed Jane Scheimann an engagement ring which she has now been wearing for 70 years. I do not remember who the graduation speaker was or what his theme was. I do remember that after the event Jane’s folks (including her very old grandmother) and my parents and went out for dinner to celebrate both what was and what was to be.

As I reflect on those years of 1945 and 1950, I also recall the May of 1920, the year my Father graduated from that same Concordia Teachers College and this year, obviously, marks exactly one hundred years of that celebrated event.

There have been many, many graduations to attend since then. As I served both as a principal and the as superintendent of schools, I am sure that I have been the speaker at more than 50 graduations including speaking at three university graduations. My guess is that none of those grads remember that I was the speaker-much less what I might have said. 

Graduations in 2020 will always be remembered as the graduations that never had any real ceremony. As I write this blog we are still in the midst of the Covoid-19 epidemic and all “live” school graduations have been canceled. It gets personal because our youngest grandson Antonio was due to graduate from New York University and our “adopted” Afghan refugee “granddaughter” was scheduled to be at a ceremony at the University of California San Diego. That too, will not be held with people in attendance.

All of this causes me to just stop for a few minutes and let my mind and heart reflect. Thank God for all teachers who lead students to the point where they can graduate. I am thankful for all who study and use their gifts to learn and thus increase their ability to serve. And I don’t want to forget those millions of young people around the world who will not only not graduate but will continue to be illiterate because we still do not have universal worldwide education. In the context of all that I will open a bottle of champagne in the quiet of my house and Jane and I will salute all graduations, ours and others, both past and present!

COVID 19 Alcohol

I really don’t need to watch TV to be reminded that alcohol has become an issue during this terrible epidemic. I have seen/heard at least half a dozen TV commentaries on this topic. There is growing evidence that the consumption of alcohol is greatly increased as people deal with all the stresses with which we all now live. One item I found especially interesting was that it was stated that people who are in AA feel less stress than heavy drinkers who have not yet joined AA. They explained that AA participants have learned how to respond to the urge to drink and resist it. Other heavy drinkers have the same stress but unfortunately often resort to heavier drinking. 

 But I don’t need TV to tell me that alcohol related questions are being asked. Here at La Costa Glen we have a weekly in-house TV hour when the Director deals with issues raised by residents. Since the facility now brings all our daily food to our rooms and even offers to go buy our groceries the question arose: “Can you buy me some vodka or wine? “The answer was “No, but we are working on that as we know that many of you have asked that question.” Two days later we got the answer. Residents can order wine from the dining room service. There are two choices and the limit is 2 bottles. (And I noticed that the prices charged have been raised quite a bit from what we paid when we just ordered that wine while we were having dinner.)

It soon got more personal. I drink at least one glass of wine a day (often two) and lately Jane has joined me. So, the question was raised, “How long will my wine last?” And I had to remember that we were not allowed to leave these premises to go buy things. The first to reach out to me was Kris. He just asked if he could bring some wine to the front gate and have those people deliver it to me. I assured him that would work. Within 48 hours the gentleman from the front gate was at my front door with two wonderful bottles of wine. Before that arrived, my daughter Elizabeth had asked about my wine supply. Then some wonderful messages appeared in my email followed by the gentleman from the front gate again at my door, this time with a full case of much better wine that what I usually purchase. My very discerning and empathic son-in-law Jim had it all carefully selected and sent on its way to my apartment door. Again, the same gentleman from the front gate delivered it to me with a very wry smile on his face.

This great flow of blessings raised a new beautiful challenge: where can I store this good stuff? I have a liquor closet of three shelves each four feet long. It has the accumulated alcohol of 13 years and the shelves had not been orderly arranged since they were first utilized. With all the time I have on my hands I decided to rearrange that mixture of alcoholic delights. That was a good decision, especially since it brought back so many good memories. I found three bottles of after dinner drinks from Sweden. They were given me by my neighbor Gordon when he decided to clear out his liquor cabinet. I found a bottle each of Arrak, Tokaji Aszo, Blossa Gloog,and Brandy Gloog. I have never tried any of them. Memories of son David now departed for five years were stirred when I found some triple sec from him and when I thought of David’s last years when he would call and say, “Dad, let’s go out and have a couple of beers and a couple of  hours of good father-son conversation.” The full bottle of Chaves Royal was brought by my friend Mahesh who lives just a few doors down. The empty spot next to that used be occupied by another good Scotch provided by wonderful friends Irene and Ruth who moved away from us way too far and now live near Philadelphia. There was just enough Kahlua for one more Black Russian and memories of wonderful moments of sharing those with friend Helene in Manhattan. Way in the back I found a bottle of very good Japanese sake and another of a strong Chinese mao tai, all carefully brought to me through international customs by former student Kam Chu

All these memories made the task of getting everything in order a pleasant couple of hours. And in the midst of it all I reflected, “You know, Mel, your father taught you to enjoy a good beer. Your wife taught you to appreciate a good before dinner cocktail. A good Lutheran wine maker in Lodi, California taught you how to appreciate a fine bottle of wine, and your son taught you how to have a drink to enhance conversation. And the ever watchful (afraid we would drink too much) 

much) eye of my Mother trained me to drink responsibly." I do not think that even once in my life I drank so much as to be considered inebriated. So, I raise a glass to all, and I am sure I will make it through the corona epidemic in good shape.

Holy Week 2020

Every Holy Week is, of course, unique. But 2020 is really very different from any previous one. The corona virus has us all under virtual “house arrest”. We have all been asked to stay in our apartment except for when we take our walk on the premises. Since it has been raining for the last few days Jane and I have just been walking the corridors-and we are careful to even then wear our face mask and to very careful about maintaining social distance. Since we have not been off campus for more than 2 weeks yesterday I went down and ran our car engine on idle for 15 minutes just to make sure the battery remains charged. We continue to be exceptionally well served here by the La Costa Glen Team. Daily food delivered is excellent. In between meals we have visits that bring us hot chocolate and ice cream. And yesterday we had the gift of a beautiful houseplant named kalanchoe delivered to us and every other unit in this building. 

I suppose it is a blessing of Holy Week to be home alone and to have extra time for recollections and meditation. Maunday Thursday brings back very special memories of Holy Communion. It was on Maunday Thursday 1941 that I received my First Communion. I also recall with deep emotion taking the Lord’s Supper while in Hong Kong. I recall especially one service at Concordia Church. As I worshipped I looked around and saw how I was surrounded by people of all ages, some extremely poor, some relatively wealthy. Most were Chinese but there were also Americans, a visitor from New Guinea and another from India. My mind went around the world and I imaged thousands of fellow Christians all over the globe sharing the meal on exactly this same day. Very inspirational.

This year we will not be meeting physically with anyone except our spouse. All services will be via Zoom on the Internet. Our pastor and his team are doing an outstanding job. I know we will set up our own little altar with wine and bread and we feel at one with millions. On Good Friday the traditional 7 Last Words will be reflected upon by 7 different congregation members and as each one of those sentences is recalled we will extinguish one of 7 candles we will have next to our computer altar.

I hope I wake up early enough on Easter morning to do some reflection on Easters past. I want to recall the enthusiasm, joy and determination with which we built our Easter egg nests in Walburg when I was a youngster. I recall vividly walking around our pasture and going to the wooded area behind our church to find just the right cut of grass and flowers (especially newly picked Texas bluebonnets) to make our Easter Egg nests, all arranged in the order of our siblings’ ages Then on Easter morning there would be a hard boiled colored egg or two placed there by mother. Sometimes there was even a chocolate egg! This will be the first year in memory when there will be not a single chocolate egg or rabbit around our house on Easter morning

While I might miss those chocolate rabbits I do know I will recall how my Father always got up early so he could ring the church bells just as the sun rose. Then a little later he would be at the church pipe organ on full volume and accompanied by a trumpet we all sang “Awake, my Heart With Gladness (in German)”. Then I want to shift my focus to the thousands around the world who this Easter will be mourning family members who succumbed to the corona virus. There will be so many sad memories. I do hope and pray that through the tears there will be a vision of a new day of a resurrected eternity, of peace and health and celebration.

Pre Covid-19 My Childhood Diseases

PRE COVID-19 MY CHILDHOOD DISEASES

It is now more than 2 weeks that Jane and I, like millions of others, have been doing this newly named practice of “social distancing” in an effort to limit the spread of Covid-19 caused by the corona virus. It has brought to mind all the children’s diseases of my childhood. Since I was one of 9 children born into my family in the 1920-30’s we had virtually all of the common childhood infectious diseases. I wish my Mother were still with us to go into more details. My memories of having these diseases are clear that I had them, but the details are very hazy. I will recount what I do recall.

MEASLES. In the early 1930’s there was no vaccine to prevent this disease so we all got the measles. I clearly remember the red rash. It spread all over my body, itching like mad. The rash covered my entire body and there was not much we could do about it. I do not remember hearing that it was lethal. However, I have read that at its worst in one year it affected some 20 million people worldwide with a death toll of 100,000. Then a vaccine was discovered and widely administered so that the USA had as few as 63 cases a year. Then false rumors regarding the vaccine stated to spread. Some parents became afraid, refused to have their children vaccinated and now we are back to some 2000 cases a year here in our country.

MUMPS. All of us Kieschnick kids got the mumps. I just remember the terrible throat ache and my Mother’s deep sympathy as she told me she felt sorry for me but there was nothing more she could do for me.

WHOOPING COUGH-SCARLETINA-RED EYE. We all had them all. My memory of Red Eye is the most vivid. Lots of puss was secreted from the eyes. After a night’s sleep we were unable to open our eyes as they were sealed shut with puss. Mother would give me a very damp hot rag. I would lay that over my eyes and the puss would be dissolved and my eyes could open.

I do not recall going to the Dr.’s office. I do recall that if we needed a doctor to come to our house Dr. Wiedemeyer would show up with his stereotypical black bag and provide compassionate diagnoses and treatment. If a drug was prescribed it is amazing to recall that there was a drug store and pharmacy in the little town of Walburg with its 50 citizens. Mr. McGuiness would fill the prescription and we were well taken care of. 

It is now 80+ years since all of the above occurred. An over-riding recollection is that of my Mother. Here she was with 3 or more children down with one of these sicknesses after another. She tended to the 3 or 4 of us who had them at the same time. Most likely she was pregnant with another child on the way. She went to the garden to get the vegetables for the day, to the chicken coop to kill a chicken for the fryer. She carried water to the clothes washing machine out in the shed, hung them out to dry and made absolutely sure that Dad had a freshly ironed white shirt to wear to school. She was amazing and I lift my heart and soul to her in grateful memory!

Corona Virus COVID 19 Disease (1

 I know. I know. Nobody wants to read any more about the corona virus right now. Yet I choose to write this Blog. I do it so that I  have a personal record of it. And just in case somebody still happens to read this Blog at some future date there will be one more very personal account.      

NUMBERS: The statistics, of course, change by the minute. As of yesterday March 25 here are just five figures. Cases in the world 500,000, Deaths 22,00. Cases in Italy 80,000, Deaths 8,000. Cases in Spain 60,000, Deaths 8,300. Cases in USA 82,00 Deaths, 1,200.

The symptoms vary from very mild to extreme. They include runny nose, cough, shortness of breath, fever, respiratory infection. It is the respiratory effects that cause death. The challenge of health care providers is to protect themselves with appropriate safety apparel, especially also face masks. The critical apparatus needed for treatment is ventilators for the lungs. The biggest challenge for the care providers is to have all these items in adequate supply.

To prevent the spread of the disease government at the local and state levels have imposed very strict rules: Stay home unless you work in an essential enterprise. All bars and restaurants closed except for take-out. No social gatherings of more than 6 people. Stay six feet apart. No physical touching of hands. In most states all schools are closed. Only a few churches are holding public worship. Those which offer public worship are extreme fundamentalists  whose  pastors assure congregants that if they pray hard enough and have enough faith they will  be protected from the virus.

We are all affected. Our family is typical of those who have no symptoms but are dealing with the precautions needed to avoid them.  They all work from home. Just a few examples: Liz does her interpersonal psychological counseling over the phone. Granddaughter Maria teaches sixth grade science over the internet. Tim stays home but helps Kaiser Permanente keep the public informed. John and Regina and their two kids are all in a single apartment in Spain regretting that Antonio’s university graduation ceremonies from NYU  have been cancelled. Ryan is without pay because the museum which he manages is closed. Jonathon sits in front of a computer for the Disney-CSPAN network doing very little because all live sports events are cancelled.

Jane and I are so comfortable that we almost feel guilty. This retirement community has urged all residents to stay in their homes except for when they walk outside to get exercise and even there they must always maintain at least 6 feet of space. Every single day staff comes to the front door of our apartment and disinfects the doorknobs and entrance area. All food for the more that 800 of us here is delivered every single da with each meal including soup, salad, entree, two vegetables, dessert and a drink. In between meals staff has come up to offer ice cream, a bouquet of freshly cut sun flowers or a drink of coffee or cocoa We are not allowed any visitors. If we must leave campus we have our temperature taken when we return.

The days do not get too long or lonely for us. We stay connected with email and telephone. I try to make at least 10 phone calls each day especially also to single people. Our congregation has also assigned me a list of eight families with whom I try to stay connected. There are three different Coffee Chat times on line for our congregants. Our Sunday worship, midweek Lenten services and weekly Bible Class are all on-line via  ZOOM. My Men’s Support Group uses Team View to stay connected.

These days of crises bring out the worst and the best of people. An interview that went all over the media featured a young college male speaking from a beach in Florida. He asserted his right to enjoy himself and said that if some old person died because of him that was just that guy’s bad luck. ”I have the right to stay on this beach and I am staying right here! ”  I have been distressed to read an editorial in The Wall Street Journal which complained about all the business shut downs. The writer argued that we must realize that in the long run keeping all businesses running is really more important than a few extra lives of ordinary people who might die. There are very unpleasant accounts of companies raising the price of protective gear by as much as 800%.

Fortunately these sad stories are countered with wonderful tales of self-sacrifice and generosity. The organization at which I often serve food to the homeless asked for more volunteers to prepare to-go meals for the homeless. The response was that more volunteers than were needed showed up and many of those were high school students who were now not in class. I heard of a very ill person who gave up his ventilator for use by a younger person and it cost him his life. I think of all the medical staff which have risked and even given their lives to assist the ill. I think there are now reports of more than 200 health care providers who have died as a result of their service to their neighbors.

This I believe. We will get through this. We will continue to support one another. We will move forward with a greater realization that within the four seas all of us are brothers and sisters.

Adolph Hitler

I just finished reading a very powerful book: “The Choice” by Edith Eger. The author was taken captive by Hitler’s forces. She endured unspeakable tortures at too many places including the hellhole called Auschwitz. The book recalls her remarkable survival and how she learned to be psychologically healthy. Her premise is that one must look reality directly in the face. We dare not deny one’s fears, hatred, guilt, shame or terror. Facing them can be a step to affirming one’s survival and making the choice to live a whole life.

When she became a well-known speaker she was invited by the US Army Chaplaincy Corps to come to Berchtesgaden, Germany to address chaplains on how to assist service personnel who had experiences severe trauma. When she arrived at Berchtesgaden she was assigned a sleeping room once occupied by the infamous Nazi Angel of Death, Dr. Joseph Mengele. Imagine being in that bedroom and having her recall that she as a 16-year-old prisoner had been stripped naked in front of him. She was saved from being raped by him only when his phone rang and he decided to answer it she ran away. I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to her to be in Berchtesgaden, in that room and be faced with those memories.

While   her experience was way, way beyond my experience it did help me recall an incident in the life of Jane and me. In the late 1980s Jane and I, too, were invited to Berchtesgaden by the US Chaplaincy corps. We were there to address especially lay people who were active providing Christian education to USA military families stationed in Europe. We, too, slept in a bedroom previously occupied by the top aides to Adolph Hitler. The room decor had been maintained from those days, a very oppressive atmosphere, with black pictures on the wall, dark walls and a foreboding aura that was powerful.

Jane I left Berchtesgaden and went to visit the Nazi concentration camp at Dachau. It was so overwhelming that when Jane got to the entrance she was unable to walk through the door. I entered. I looked to the left where I know a trainload of naked corpses had been found when the allies retook that place. Ahead of me was a vast gas chamber. Just beyond that I could still see the smoke stack from which the smoke of thousands of burned bodies once wafted into the sky.

Once again: my experience was nothing close to what Dr. Eger experienced; yet I came to the same renewed resolve that she experienced. We must resolve to never again let the world experience the torture and damnable activities like those of Hitler against Jews, homosexuals, persons with disabilities, etc. etc.

We live in a day in which fears are being stirred. People who are different from us are being demonized. Jews are in danger of being shot to death when they attend a synagogue. White Supremacists in America are yelling at fellow-American Muslims, “Go back to your own country!” Once again  I make a deep commitment to see all of God’s children as my brothers and sisters. I affirm my solidarity with all who seek the same things in life that I want: freedom, liberty, permission to worship according to the dictates of my conscience and the freedom to wear religious emblems of my own choosing. I ask for the courage to always proclaim “One nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all.”

Weddings II

 I enjoy writing blogs about weddings. Maybe that is because I have been so blessed in my relationship with my wife Jane and our marriage began with a wonderful wedding. Yet weddings were an important part of my life long before Jane and I had our wedding. 

When I was not yet in school I twice served as the ring bearer at weddings. I enjoyed doing that. I remember wearing a full suit and tie and having my hair carefully combed. I also remember some stress about “doing it right”. At one wedding I carried the rings for the couple on a small satin pillow. The rings were just laid on top of the pillow and I was told to be sure to not let them fall. The best man was especially concerned that the ring would slip off the pillow and down into my trousers. He twice told me he did not want to be in front of the congregation digging through my pants looking for those wedding rings!

I also remember that at one of those weddings, before we went to the reception after the ceremony at church, we went into Georgetown to a professional photographer to have pictures taken. And what I remember most is that while all that was going on a couple members of he wedding party kept urging me to kiss the flower girl. That was unthinkable and resolutely refused!

As mentioned in an earlier blog I especially loved going to the reception and being part of the small group of young boys who “held gate” and asked for a small donation from each car as it went through the fence gate to the farm house for the big party. There the meals were ALWAYS outstanding. There was always beef bar-b-cue. If the family was very poor and had trouble providing enough beef they would supplement the beef with a poor second choice: bar-b-cued mutton; but never chicken! Meals were served in three different seatings: first the wedding couple and the men, then the children and then the women.

After dinner there was often a bit of a “program.”  Central to that was my father singing a special song for the newly married. The songs were always in German and were improvised by my father. Depending upon the relative size of the two spouses dad would sing either “Die Kleine Frau” or “Die Grosse Frau” (The Small or the Large Wife”). I remember one section about the small wife having to climb a chair if she wanted to kiss her husband. After these ceremonies a” midnight lunch” was served to all. Then came to shivaree .Men friends of the couple came with their steel plow shares, wash tubs, and all kinds of other metal to make a big noise. They played until the groom called the helpers to bring on the beer and serve it to all the noisemakers. Technically there was no dancing during any of this since “Dancing is a Sin”. But the pastor knew not to stay too late because after the pastor left it was not unusual for actual dancing to begin!

 I had very little involvement in planning my own wedding and that was fine with me. There was no little boy ring bearer. Nor was there “gate-holding”, bar-b-cue, dancing or shivaree but it was wonderful. And for more than 68 years Jane and I have been doing our best to live out the call of the words from Psalm 34 which Pastor Weber encouraged us to embrace: “O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together.”

Weddings I

 I have just agreed to preside at the wedding of my grandson Ryan and his bride Jill. It’s scheduled for the 4^th of July in the backyard of his parents Liz and Jim in W. Hartford CT. I write this as the coronavirus is spreading and I am hoping that will all be pretty much history by the time we fly across the USA. Planning for that wedding which they want to be “very, very simple” reminds me of the most recent weddings at which I have presided.

Three recent weddings have all been for same sex marriages, something I would never have even dreamed of when Jane and I got married 68 years ago. One of those weddings was indeed the “most simple” possible. A lesbian couple had been together for years. Finally their marriage could be legal. They wanted me to just “do the legal minimum”. We stood together at a kitchen counter. I asked each, “Do you take her as your spouse?” They both said “Yes.” And that was it (I should add that since they did not want to have a religious ceremony I said my own silent prayer.)

Another recent marriage of two gay persons was of a grand-niece in Texas. It was a beautiful ceremony in a beautiful outdoor central Texas setting. It was joyful and celebratory but I could also feel the tension of family members who were not approving of the marriage and yet wanted the best for this wonderful couple.

The wedding before that was somewhat out of the norm as well. The groom was getting married just 6 months after I had presided at the memorial of his wife of more than 50 years. The bride in this case had also recently buried her husband. The newly married pair had known each other for years and they are now a very happy and blessed couple.

The wedding before that one was really different. The bride is the biggest Disney Land fan in the world and that is where she wanted her wedding. However, she did not want to deal with all the restrictions, protocols and costs of it being “an official Disney” wedding. She wanted guests at the wedding. And she wanted it to be a surprise for all. So we just casually gathered at Disney World, stood around an entrance to one of the rides as I quietly asked for and heard their very brief and casual vows. Then we went to a restaurant there and celebrated. The  marriage is a great success and Disney Land is joyfully visited by the bride on a very regular basis.

 A joyful memory of weddings comes almost every week as I see the very first couple that I married some 25 years ago now always show up for Sunday worship at Calvary Lutheran Church.

Lent

 We are about to once again enter the season of Lent. My memories of observing Lent while growing up are very strong. We had worship services every Friday night during Lent. They were always in German. A key feature of every Friday night service was a reading of the events in the life of Jesus beginning with His instituting The Lord’s Supper up to Christ’s death on the cross. The reading of a segment of this each week from a harmony of the Gospels lies deep in my heart. The sermons preached at those services always related specifically to the events we had had just heard read. I remember especially one series related to questions asked during those fateful 24 hours and at my suggestion this year at my church we are following that pattern for our weekly Sunday Bible classes during Lent.) Once we started having Lenten services in English it seemed to be mandatory that we sing “Go To Dark Gethsemane “ every week.

Lent culminated in Holy week. There was always the ritual of youth “confirmation” on Palm Sunday and first Holy Communion on Maunday Thursday. As the years have passed so have the rituals related to Lent. I always regret that I never made it to New Orleans to observe Mardi Gras, specially also the revelry related to the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday.

At my current church the formal observation of Lent is quite different. We begin with some version of Shrove Tuesday observed by eating pancakes on Pancake Tuesday. We then have the deeply reflective practice of “imposition of ashes” on Ash Wednesday. However at the weekly services we do not focus specifically on the last days of the suffering Christ and I miss that. To indicate how different our rituals of today are from some 90 years ago I mention that to begin Lent at my church this year we are all watching the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood”. At our weekly events we will reflect upon lessons learned from Mr. Rogers. Of course we will read some scriptures and have reflections and it will be a very different experience. If we tried to repeat what we did in my youth I suspect that the only two people who would show up would be my wife and I.

So I look forward to this Lenten season. I no longer “give up” something for lent. Jane and I do read special Lenten reflections and prayers in our morning devotions at hiome and this year will use resources provided by Bread for the World. I know we will not be singing “Go to Dark Gethsemane”. I am determined to remember the past, be open to the present, and look forward to the future. Thus Lent will become for me a time to repent, reflect and recommit.

Arithmetic

Of course, we were taught arithmetic already in the first grade at Zion Lutheran School in Walburg, Texas. It was all pretty straight adding, subtracting and multiplying. We were taught the processes but none of the” theory”. I make the sad confession that I had no idea of the decimal system with its ones, ten and hundreds. I am embarrassed to say that when I did a year as a “supply teacher” of grades one to four I told the students to ignore all that stuff about ones and tens. When a bright student even asked me about it I told her to just forget about all that. It was only when I later took a course on Teaching Math that I caught on to that primary (even kindergarten) concept. 

I was spared learning much about math throughout my education. I took one course in algebra. I have no idea how I made it through high school and college without ever taking geometry, trig, or calculus. When I got to graduate school at the University of Pacific I was fortunate to have an outstanding professor of statistics. He was a genius at making complex math concepts understandable. He even had me do correlation coefficient numbers relating to exams I gave to my students in elementary school. And then he served on my thesis exam committee and I looked good because of all that he had taught me.

By coincidence I just yesterday listened to a fascinating NPR program on math and numbers. The speaker urged us to think of the importance of numbers in our everyday life. He directed us to reflect on what it would be like if we did not numbers to identify our age, phone number, mailing address, money, car speed, etc. etc. So I am grateful for all who really “get’ numbers and for all who have gone before me and put into place number systems which make life possible and more enjoyable.

Writing

Writing has been an important part of my life, both personally and professionally. As I reflect upon the training I received to be a writer the first thing that hits me is how this was taught me, especially in elementary and high school. Three components were stressed very early: penmanship, spelling and grammar.

Penmanship was a special subject and each week a period was set aside during which we were supposed to learn “the Palmer Method”. We had very specific instructions on how to hold our pencils and how to move our wrists. It was all wasted on me. My penmanship was and is very poor. This was in contrast to my Mother who had beautiful handwriting. She went only to the 6th grade yet her letters to me were always in beautiful handwriting. When I later tried to write Chinese characters I found that my handwriting in Chinese was even worse than in English or German. 

Spelling was also a separate subject all the way through to the eighth grade. Each week we had a list of words to learn to spell. The teacher called out the words and we had to write them out, hopefully with the correct spelling. I did okay in the class exercise, but when I (up to this day) write in paragraphs my spelling always needs lots of corrections.

Grammar was very important. Early on we had to learn the parts of speech and proper rules of grammar. Already at the 4th grade level we had to diagram sentences. This was a method of charting subjects, predicates, direct and indirect objects, adjectival and adverbial clauses, prepositional phrases etc. etc. I always enjoyed it up to the time in Zion Lutheran School when we were challenged to diagram the longest sentence with which we were familiar. That was Martin Luther’s 17-word explanation of the Second Article (about Jesus). 

Writing essays, compositions, narratives or poetry was simply not stressed at any level of my schooling. In grad school the emphasis went to documentation and bibliographical notations. My master’s thesis was written well before computers and my wife Jane who did the typing on an old non-electric typewriter reminds me that no erasures or corrections were allowed and foot-noting sources was a major challenge.

Most of my professional career gave me the opportunity and responsibility to write material for publication. I wrote devotional, educational, and motivational materials. As I recall publishing more than 200 articles, two books and hundreds of blogs I am grateful for the lessons learned in handwriting, spelling and grammar that sent me on the road to writing.