The month of February brings my heart to the joy of love.  I have wonderful loves in my life, and one in particular comes to mind.  My grandmother, Patricia Ann, showed me what true love feels like.  She loved her husband through laughter and glances that we would all catch just by being in the same room as the two of them.  She had 6 children, the oldest, my father, and she loved each of them uniquely.  She had 25 grandchildren, I the oldest girl, and I admire the way she loved each of us.  She was kind and smart and worked very hard at everything she did.  She was tall and thin and sometimes I can still hear her voice and smell her perfume.  My dear Grandma Pat died when I was in college, but she instilled the compassion and love I try to share today.

When I think of true love and how that love makes us feel, I remember 1John 4:19; We love, because He first loved us.  Jesus taught us how to feel love and how to give love.  We share love through our actions, using His spirit to touch others.  Recently, I visited UMOM with a group of Pinnacle Women’s Fellowship members and we saw true love.  Staff and volunteers serve homeless families in our area and the love we felt was overwhelming.  155 families living in the short-term 120 day shelter housing which offers meals, shelter, training for job skills, money management, and compassion. 

Serving the community offers true love.  Giving, sharing, listening, and learning is a wonderful way to feel love.  My prayer for you today is to remember, feel & share true love.  Lots of love from me today, and always.

“Education is a powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”  This sentence is written by the celebrated Nelson Mandela which perfectly describes the importance of education.  Our education starts with the first question asked and ends with the last question asked.  Which means that learning lasts a lifetime or at least it should, but it doesn’t seem to be something that we talk about as busy parents while so focused on getting through the day.  “Hey, Ryan, what did you learn today?”  What if I asked my husband this question each day?  It’s something we ask our kids every day, but as adults we don’t think about our education much anymore.

The truth is that our personal education impacts our personal growth, which impacts our relationships and career success.  By enriching our brains, we have new and valuable information that improves the way we think, our ability to analyze, process and relate.  One of the insights I have heard from a neuroscientist is that learning is not just a brain activity, but a whole-body activity.

Over Christmas break I went to the Phoenix Art Museum to see the Mexican artist, Carlos Amorales’ famous installation, Black Cloud. He was inspired by the annual migration of monarch butterflies from Canada to Mexico and out of that he conceived a work of 25,000 black paper moths and butterflies hanging from the walls and ceilings of the museum.  One can only imagine the whole-body experience felt when in a stark white room full of three-dimensional butterflies coming out of the walls while a group of musicians are moving about freely improvising with their various instruments.  Everything each musician played independently was magically woven together like a knitted shawl and the evening was absolutely enchanting. 

Besides being such a lovely evening, it was an educational encounter that touched all the senses.  What I took away from it wasn’t that I wanted to hang butterflies in my living room to imitate the installation, but I wanted to create.  I was inspired.  It also made me realize that I need more of this in my life…  “this.”  When we are moved as I was or have the experience of a “light bulb moment” we thirst for more learning, more growth, more knowledge, right?  What I am contemplating is the idea of being completely immersed in something to emerge with a new sense of wonder.

A sense of wonder of what keeps us alive; keeps our brains curious and full of amazement.  I feel it’s as important to invest in our minds as it is our bodies.  However, it takes self-motivation.  As a busy working mom I have to make it a habit to learn and to engross myself in experiences such as the butterfly installation.  Every day, each of us are offered the opportunity to pursue intellectual development in ways that are tailored to our learning style.  We can take online classes, sit in a Bible study, read a newspaper cover to cover, watch a Netflix documentary.  So why don’t more of us seize that opportunity? We know it’s worth the time, and yet we find it so hard to make the time.

While few studies validate the observation that lifelong learning has a profound impact on our well-being, I’ve noticed in my own interactions that those who dedicate themselves to learning and who exhibit curiosity are almost always happier and more socially and professionally engaging than those who don’t.  Hmmm… Have you ever had a personal “snow day” and finished a great novel in one sitting?  Do you remember the fulfillment you felt when you knew the answer to a difficult problem or understood something that others were struggling with?  Have you ever created something truly spectacular and stood back to take a long look?  These experiences can be electrifying.  And even if education had no impact on health, prosperity or social standing, it would be entirely worthwhile as an expression of what makes every person so unique.  And with everything we learn, we become more extraordinary because of what we are giving ourselves… we have that gift of knowledge.  Hey, what have you learned today?

“Humble” was the first word that came to my mind as our team arrived in a Haiti preschool classroom to find 50 preschoolers sitting on wooden benches to learn vowel sounds.

Hundreds of school children from some of the poorest communities and villages gather in the five Harmony Ministry schools across that country. The largest school is in the slums of Port au Prince where 200 students learn in the brand new school building rebuilt following the 2010 earthquake. Three village schools with about 50-150 students at each and a small preschool through first grade, high in the mountains, complete the Harmony Ministry schools.  Many of the village students are the first in their family to learn to read and write. Children walk or ride tap-taps (mini buses) for several hours each day to attend school and for most, they go without lunch each day. 

Seeing this, I reflected on how different my elementary school experience was from the children in Haiti. My classrooms were filled with bright bulletin boards, fun ways to learn math, reading, writing and science.  My favorite place was always the well-stocked library where I picked a new book to read each week.  My well educated teachers prepared for us to have new experiences. We had daily recess on new playground equipment.  I was blessed, even more than I realized, as I watched the older children learn their times tables on the one blackboard with a tiny piece of chalk in their hand.

The focus of this Haiti trip was on two schools. The newly finished Port au Prince school with nine classrooms from preschool to sixth grade and the small school in the village of Thoman near the Dominican border. 

During our week we wanted to provide a few experiences for the students that they might not otherwise have.  We provided color and brighter rooms for the classrooms in Port au Prince, took their photos [which likely had never been done before], and taught science and art classes.

The painting project was started by the Harmony Ministries community as they painted the walls white.  We arrived to decorate with painted trees, stripes, polka dots, rainbows and handprint flowers made by the students in the classes.  Their excitement upon entering their painted rooms was joyful to watch as they compared their classroom decorations with other rooms on Monday morning.

But the most powerful experience was our team’s interaction with the students as we taught art and science lessons.  Many children had never looked in a mirror as our team member talked about how we are all unique, special and loved by God.  Children learned how to draw a face, use scissors and crayons, and share some of their favorite things that make them special.  We were humbled when they wanted to share their photos with our Sunday school children.

Their eyes opened wide as they saw yellow and blue make green in our science lessons. As they learned the power of magnets that can attract each other through our hands. And air mass with paper helicopters thrown off the second story balcony or into the windy street.  Their energy brought joy to our faces and humility to how much we have and know from our privileged education in the states. 

Finally, as we took individual photos the group would gather around as they watched the 2 x 3 photo come out of our Polaroid camera. They laughed, smiled and wanted one to take home.  We have school photos of ourselves, children and grandchildren.  It was humbling to recognize this might be their only school photo. The photos were put up on each classroom wall so everyone could remember how special they are. 

Often we forget about the small energizing opportunities that led us to choose careers, passions and vocations like an art class or a science experiment. Many road blocks are against these children as they think about their future.  I am humbled by how blessed we are here, and challenged to provide more experiences like these to our partners in Haiti.

Most of all, I am humbled by how easy it is to make someone feel special and important. Our team, with much of your help and prayers were able to help students and teachers have that experience and were blessed by it. Pastor Luc left us at the airport with these words, “You made a difference in the student’s lives.  Thank you.”

Tonight I had a conversation with the director of the Phoenix Symphony Chorus about music without words. He said, “I was talking to my Music Appreciation class today at the University. I asked them if they thought that music without words could be ‘sacred.’ They said that they’d never really thought about it before. I told them that I thought that music can only be truly sacred if it had words and those words spoke of God.”

This is not a new topic. The conversation around the sacredness of music has been going on for almost 2000 years. Early on in the Church all instruments were banned from worship services. Theologians spoke against instruments in worship. They thought that instruments were too “pagan,” and they feared that musical instruments in worship would distract people, making them think of drinking and dancing and…carousing. 

Clement of Alexandria, who lived in the second half of the second century said, “The Lord fashioned man a beautiful, breathing instrument, after His own image and assuredly He Himself is an all-harmonious instrument of God, melodious and holy, the wisdom that is above this world, the heavenly Word. …and on this many-voiced instruments of the universe He makes music to God, and sings to the human instrument. ‘For thou art my harp and my pipe and my temple.’” The only God-made instrument, they said, is the human voice. So, this is the only instrument allowed in church…and that voice can only be lifted up in the praise of God with words from the Bible, and this tradition carried on for centuries.

One of the first instruments to be introduced into Christian worship was the organ, and its purpose was only to support the singing. The chants required singers to hold notes for a very long time…and they would run out of breath. So, the organ was developed to mimic the human voice and to play underneath the singers, so they could catch their breath without losing the continuity of the sound. But, even though the innovation of using a musical instrument in church gained more and more acceptance, it was only there to support the singing of psalms and sacred hymns. Music without words…was still forbidden.  Yet, even though the organ has been used in church for centuries, not all theologians agreed on its presence in worship. Martin Luther called the organ “an ensign of Baal,” and John Calvin said, “Men who are fond of outright pomp may delight in the noise, but the simplicity which God commands to us by the apostles is far more pleasing to God.” John Wesley, the great Methodist theologian and hymn writer, said himself, “I have no objection to the organs in our chapels, as long as they are neither seen nor heard.” Even though early Protestants eschewed the use of instruments in worship, some of the greatest music ever written was the organ music of the pre-eminent Protestant composer Johann Sebastian Bach, specifically meant for worship! Just think of his magisterial Tocatta and Fugue in D minor!

Some Christian traditions still allow no musical instruments in worship. But not us here at Pinnacle. We have a magnificent organ…and a fantastic new organist to make it sing. This last Sunday Dr. Ilona Kubiaczyk-Adler led us not only in the singing of our hymns; she also led us in worship through the prelude, offertory, and postlude…all music without words, at times meditative, at others celebratory and even proclamatory. And I say that it was sacred. A couple of Sundays ago, Chip and Marti King led us in our worship with the music of the bassoon and the piano.  No words. Just music. And God was praised.   At times the youth lead us with African or steel drums, or the handbell choir rings praise on our behalf, or Al Roselieb’s trumpet announces God’s good news. Sacred music that points us to God.

The psalmist proclaims, “Hallelujah! Praise God in His holy place Praise God with a shofar blast, praise God with psaltery and lyre. Praise God with tambourines and dance, praise God with stringed instruments and flute. Praise God with resounding cymbals, praise God with resonant cymbals. Let every soul praise God. Hallelujah!” (Psalm 150).

This last Sunday we had an art show here at Pinnacle, featuring artists from our church family, our community of faith. We held the art show in Fellowship Hall, not the sanctuary. Not one of the artists painted “God.” We weren’t in a worship setting. And yet…each artist shared their creative talents, the products of their God-given talents, their art singing forth, like hymns without words. Not art for its own sake (ars gratia artis), but art for God’s sake (ars gratia Dei). And people appreciated the art and gifts of creativity, and they fellowshipped.

The Word of God comes to us sometimes in silence, sometimes in wordless music, singing the cosmic hymn of creation, and sometimes in art, reflecting God’s own creativity in forming and expressing God’s own image in us. Enjoy music and art, for art’s sake, and praise God for creativity, for God’s sake.

It’s “stewardship season” at Pinnacle Presbyterian Church, which means we’re asking folks to commit time and money, and prayer, to our ministry for 2019.  While I’m tempted to make my post an appeal, I do want our blog to appeal beyond Pinnacle, so I’ll have a little restraint [though if you like this blog, you are welcome to give a gift to Pinnacle online www.pinnaclepres.org.] 

In thinking on this topic, though, I found a lovely midrash on a midrash, by Rabbi Shawn Israel Zevit about the power of a gracious heart and generous giving that I thought I would share.  It has universal meaning, I think, for many areas of our lives.  It’s in Zevit’s book, Offerings of the Heart (pp. 113-114), based on Jeffrey Dekro and Lawrence Bush’s book, Jews, Money and Social Responsibility, in which they adapt a classic Rabbinic story from Midrash Rabbah.  Like I said, a commentary on a commentary on a commentary — like many true things.

There are two seas in the land of Israel [and Palestine].
One is fresh, and fish are in it.
Splashes of green adorn its bands.
Trees spread their branches over it,
And stretch their thirsty roots
To sip of its healing waters.

Along its shores, children play.
The River Jordan makes this sea sparkle.
With water from the hills.
It laughs in the sunshine.
People build their homes near to it,
And birds their nests;
And every kind of life is happier
Because it is there.

The River Jordan also flows south into another sea.
Here there is no splash
Of fish, no fluttering leaf,
No song of birds, no children’s laughter.
Travelers choose another route
Unless on urgent business.
The air hangs heavily above its waters,
And neither person nor beast nor fowl will drink.

What makes this mighty difference in these seas?
Not the River Jordan.
It empties the same good water into both.
Not the soil in which they lie.
Not the country round about.

This is the difference.
The Sea of Galilee receives
But does not keep the Jordan.
For every drop flows out.
The giving and receiving
Go on in equal measure.
The other sea however, is shrewd,
Hoarding its income jealously.
It will not be tempted
Into any generous impulse.
Every drop it gets, it keeps.
It lets nothing flow out.
The Sea of Galilee gives and lives.
The other sea gives nothing.
It is called
The Dead Sea.