Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 3 Comments

Project 1525  Oct 16, 2024

As a follower of the actions and teachings of the Jewish rabbi Jesus of Nazareth, my denominational flavor by birth and by choice is Presbyterian. “Presbyterian” is the New Testament Greek word for ELDER – “Presbuteros”. Elders seek together to discern God’s will in the Presbyterian Church (USA). Elders are not just old men; elders are men and women elected by churches because of their wisdom and their servant leadership to discern and do the ministry and mission of the church with others.

500 years ago, John Calvin of Geneva wrote his playbook. It was not called “Project 1525”; it was “The Institutes of the Christian Religion”. Because of sin, he did not trust one person with too much power. In his day the papal institution had total immunity to arrest and persecute any enemy who disagreed with their autocratic authority. They didn’t need the supreme court; they had the Holy Roman Empire – the First Reich (before Hitler’s Third Reich). 

Even more, because of sin, Calvin did not trust the masses to make informed decisions. His masses could be conned to believe anything. Before printed copies, they were told by their church in Latin what the Bible said without reading it themselves. Yet I don’t think he’d ever imagine social media today convincing the masses that outlandish lies are true. (Joseph Goebbles showed, “repeat a lie enough and a mass of people will believe it’s true”).

Rather than a top/down or a bottom/up system of church government, Calvin proposed something new. Elected elders would pray, share different perspectives and ideas, and come together to discern the best way forward. Our American experiment was so similar that King George III wrote “sister America has run off with a presbyterian parson.”

For 67 years I’ve been amazed how true those ideals are. As the pastor, I’ve had bad ideas that were corrected by the wisdom of teamwork. I’ve been against ideas our elders adopted that I was persuaded to support with transparent and transformative discussion and a majority vote. Brilliant ideas that weren’t there when we gathered came from a team of rivals working together. It would have been disastrous if I alone were in charge, or if we polled people on everything. 

Because we had a team of strong and wise elders, the church thrived when I went insane 17 years ago. I wonder, what would happen to our American experiment if a man with psychological problems, possible dementia, and a history of abuse to get his way became the sole autocrat? Who has been a team of wise elders of all ages discerning the best way forward in your life? 

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Delusions 101424

During my seminary class in pastoral care the professor said, “My first assignment in Clinical Pastoral Education at a mental hospital was to talk the patients out of their delusions. All of us failed that assignment; some of us took longer to give up. If you’re under the delusion that a rational argument will sway a delusional person, then I can give you the same assignment.”  I’m reflecting on that lesson on this 17th anniversary of my being committed to Mid-MO mental hospital after my first (and only) Bi-Polar One manic psychotic break with reality. 

On this day in 2007, when I called my sister to inform her that I was in charge of resetting the economy like the Jubilee Year that Jesus proclaimed, fifty years of being my sister and thirty years of being a psychologist came together in tears. After I hung up, she called my wife to inform her I was manic and nothing could talk me down. She told her to shelter our son safely in another home, to have someone with me at all times so I didn’t disappear, and to pray that I would do something bad enough to get committed for treatment, but not bad enough that I ruined the rest of my life. That was a very fine line to walk, but that prayer was answered fully.

Medication treated my delusions, counseling helped me deal with stressful antagonists, spiritual direction taught me practices for grieving, and nine months of disability let me rest to return to ministry in my old church as a new pastor. I can only imagine the damage I might have done if I had enablers who gave me power as they tried to say my delusions were real. I am glad for those who challenged my lies, and for our rule of law that allowed a judge who was and is my friend to sign my committal papers to get me the help I needed to be who I am today.

What is your experience with a person struggling with mental illness and seeking mental health? Describe a time you struggled to rationally talk another person out of their delusions? Who has helped you grow into a better person?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Patrol Boy 101124

Last night we started watching the 2012 documentary on Ethel Kennedy. This afternoon we learned she just died at the age of 96. Eerie. While giving thanks for my heroes working for justice and racial equality during my childhood, I also thought of being a patrol boy; weird; here’s why.

A week after being chosen to be a patrol boy, during my training in June, I heard Sen. Kennedy had been shot; the news wouldn’t sink in for several years. When I started my year serving as a patrol boy, I was given the responsibility of helping Chenoweth Elementary kids safely cross Brownsboro Road — the four-lane state Highway 42 in Louisville’s east end. 

I liked the power and prestige that went with being chosen to be a patrol boy. When I felt like it, I could push the cross button to change the light and stop all the traffic on Hwy 42. I would tell the kids when to cross. I loved the sense of control over others I had. I loved the look of my patrol boy outfit with a white belt across my waist and shoulder and a silver badge with AAA on it. (I thought it was something super cool like A plus plus.)

Soon enough I learned that being chosen is not easy. The few sunny fall days became the many rain, sleet, snow days. I had to get there early, stay late, and be responsible. But at least I wasn’t alone; I always had the other patrol boy assigned to that crossing by my side.

People of faith often talk about being chosen for their spiritual journey. I now know that being chosen isn’t easy. It isn’t about the control, the power, the badge, or the certificate in the end. We are chosen to serve —  to do our part each day to make the crossings of others safer and better with our presence.  We are chosen not because we are better, but to be better.

When have you experienced the honor of being chosen before learning how much responsibility you would have? How have you helped others cross dangerous paths on their journeys? What rewards do you receive in loving and serving others with empathy and compassion?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 5 Comments

Frau Herzog 101024

During the summer of the birth of Star Wars and the death of Elvis my first best man and I were welcomed into Frau Herzog’s apartment at 19 Untergasse in Wien (Vienna, Austria). She survived off annual Emory tuition paid to her. She only spoke German. She only complained when we left the shower running for a second too long between on-quick soak-off-lather-on-quick rinse-off. I continue that practice as I recall her conservation born out of poverty. A daily breakfast was included, but she was so generous with her food that we smuggled fruit and granola to feed fellow students famished by wealthier hosts.

One particular night she talked until dawn — one of those sacred experiences of connection that are too rare. She shared the suffering from the consequences of her war — her community searching amidst devastation for scraps of food. In the wee hours with my immature German, I couldn’t fully translate every word, but her eyes spoke with sighs too deep for words. 

As she ended her soul-bearing to begin cooking breakfast, she went to the beginning. She was a young adult for the 1938 Anschluss (“joining”) when Hitler forced the unification of Germany and Austria (their split was forced 20 years before after losing WW1). The promise of one man who could fix the economy, purify and protect the elite race, establish one religion, and make his realm (“Reich”) great again was so popular that a vote to unify was scheduled for March 13 in Austria. Not trusting a fair election, Hitler marched his German troops across the border the day before. A month later, Frau Herzog “voted” in the delayed election to approve the Anschluss with German troops observing her visible ballot. 

Whenever I safely and secretly vote my conscience, I think of how she couldn’t.

If you’re a person of faith, what feeds your joy, hope, and compassion for everything and everyone on this planet? If you’re an American citizen, how do you treat the gift of the freedom to vote? Where do you get your information to be responsible for your freedom?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Kris Kristofferson 09302024

On my 15th birthday, 2/2/72, my older brother Baylor gave me the album “The Silver Tongued Devil and I” by Kris Kristofferson. He said words matter and these words are creatively and carefully chosen. Oh….. and…… “If you want to know me,” Baylor said, “I’m ‘The Pilgrim Chapter 33’” – from the rockin’ of the cradle to the rollin’ of the hearse the going up was worth the coming down. Two years later I was on the front row to hear Kris and Rita sing “Jesus Was a Capricorn” and “Why me Lord?” During the 3rd of six concerts I attended I helped Kris sing some words he was too drunk to get out by himself; future decades were better.

The song that celebrates what’s good about humanity is “Here Comes that Rainbow Again”. Someone on YouTube put stills from “The Grapes of Wrath” to Kristofferson’s words and music — it’s worth your while to watch. (search YouTube – Kris Kristofferson – Here comes that rainbow again (1982))

So many of his songs form the album of my life, but my vocation comes from “To Beat the Devil” (on his “Me and Bobby McGee” album) — you see, the devil haunts a hungry man; if you don’t wanna join him; you gotta beat him. I ain’t sayin’ I beat the devil, but I drank his beer for nothin’; then I stole his song. And you still can hear me singing to the people who don’t listen to the things that I am sayin’ prayin’ someone’s gonna hear. And I guess I’ll die explaining how the things that they complain about are things they could be changing, hoping someone’s gonna care. I was born a lonely singer and I’m bound to die the same, but I’ve gotta feed the hunger in my soul. And if I never have a nickel, I won’t ever die ashamed, ’cause I don’t believe that no one wants to know.

What movie, poem, album, concert, or song comes to your mind remembering Kris Kristofferson? How do words and music challenge you and inspire you in your life?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Healthy Congregations 092424

For several decades I’ve been trained in and I’ve been a consultant for “Healthy Congregations”. I’ve helped churches apply insights from Murray Bowen’s and Rabbi Ed Friedman’s family systems theory to open their eyes to how a community system functions. The leader’s response to anxious situations determines whether the system promotes health or destructive chaos. I’ve seen various churches “from both sides now” based on the leader’s style.

Today I received a bookmark from Peter L. Steinke’s healthycongregations.com to remind me of the seven responses that promote health in anxious situations. To promote health……

  1. Focus on managing self, not others
  2. Focus on strength, not weakness
  3. Focus on challenge, not comfort
  4. Focus on integrity, not unity
  5. Focus on process, not content
  6. Focus on system, not symptom
  7. Focus on direction, not condition

You may have questions about or want clarification for some of these brief reminders (my mantras). I’d be happy to share insights on the importance of each one, along with stories where each focus promoted health, or where each “not” allowed cancers to spread like a pandemic in a church. 

If you’ve been in any flavor of a religious community, where have you seen the level of maturity of the leader lower the level of anxiety in that system? How might you apply the seven foci of an effective leader in choosing the person you want to lead your community, your state, or your nation? 

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 3 Comments

Shake the Other Hand 091124

In Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught non-violent active resistance to evildoers. “If someone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek.” What’s so special about the right cheek? For someone to slap you with their palm on your right cheek, they’d have to use their left hand. But there was no way to do that. Every left hand was unclean (you only used your left hand to wipe yourself before toilet paper — enough said). 

To slap you on your right cheek the evildoer would have to use the back of his right hand. It was a put-down of abusers overpowering those they saw as “less than”. Husbands could backslap wives, slave owners could backslap slaves, Romans could backslap the occupied people of Palestine. Any of the powerless who hit back could be severely punished — even executed.

But if you “turn the other cheek” then you are inviting him to slap you with his right palm on your left cheek — no law against that. BUT…. IF he does, he is treating you as equal to him — no backhands, face to face, palm to cheek — equals. You resist an evildoer by putting a backhanding abuser in a quandary. Do I slap you as an equal or do I walk away? Jesus’ suggestion to “turn the other cheek” is not weak or wimpy. It is an act of power — do whatever the Empire lets you do — “when you’re the star they let you get by with anything” — but treat me as an equal.

Preachers search for contemporary illustrations for ancient sayings of Jesus. Before last night’s debate began preachers got such a gift. The man who has a lifetime of backhand slapping insults, racist divisions, liabilities for sexual assault and slander of women, using threats of violence and lawless abuse of power to make others afraid walked in. He was unprepared for the debate, but mostly he was unprepared to be cornered by a “presidential” candidate who walked up to him, offered her hand, and said her name correctly. When he shook her hand, he was the loser. He gave into her demand that she be treated as an equal — standing face to face and shaking hands. Shake the other hand revealed the modern meaning of religious wisdom to turn the other cheek.

When have you seen the power of non-violent actions disarming the abuse of power? What or who helped you stand up for yourself with dignity and confidence? What attributes do you look for in a good leader of communities you are in?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 1 Comment

Labor Day  Sept. 2, 2024

Once I thought of it, I tried to thank my mom each Labor Day; her labor gave me life. Although she died in 1998 I still say thank you for my life and life lessons, but I struggle to find just the right words without Hallmark making manufactured “Labor Day” Cards.

The morning of her labor in 1997, my wife and I labored to find just the right words of appreciation for our son’s birthmother. Hallmark didn’t have pre-written birthmother cards, so we had to express our own feelings with “sighs too deep for words”.

Her extended family were so supportive of our adoption that they gave our son a baby shower on his “birth” day. Their hospital room overflowed with her family, love, gifts, and support. We also gave our son’s birth mother caffeine sodas, skinny clothes, love and appreciation. We maintained contact through the adoption agency so that twice a year we thanked her with letters and pictures. After ten years, we helped out son begin to write years of thank-you notes about his life.

I would much rather write her the thank you notes than a questionable judge or intrusive politician. I am thankful she chose life, and I am thankful she had the freedom to choose. I am more than grateful that when she had a constitutional right to choose, she made the choice she did. How would we thank her if the decision were forced upon her? Would our son have entered the world with resentment instead of love?

When have you impacted another person’s life with a difficult choice you made? How much do you trust others to make good choices in their lives? Where do you spend most of your energy – trying to control other lives, or working on your own?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

At Seventeen  August 26, 2024

“At Seventeen” (a year before the song) seventy tornados swept through several states on Wednesday April 3, 1974. By Sunday we still didn’t have electricity, food, or water. We went to  the church of my youth to meet our most basic needs — imagine that.

During worship I sat by my latest hero, Major Mott of the Salvation Army. I sat among strangers in a sanctuary where I usually knew everyone. Worship did not focus on the carnage of Rolling Fields, Crescent Hill, Indian Hills, or Northfield, but on the hope of people coming together and working together to do something for the future. Everyone was welcomed to share in the meal of communion — a thanksgiving remembrance with bread and wine.

Moving into Fellowship Hall, we sat around tables eating sandwiches. Sandwiches….. all we seemed to ever see were sandwiches. We were tired of making so many sandwiches; we were “fed up to here” with eating sandwiches. Yet, we were “well fed” by sandwiches. The community had blossomed beyond the sanctuary walls. I sat with a friend who attended synagogue the day before. “Another damned sandwich” suddenly tasted sacred. 

After those two communions, when I looked out on my neighborhood, nothing had changed. I could still see my house unblocked by blown away trees. I could see the devastation of other homes. Nothing had changed, but I had changed. I had stopped, prayed, worshipped, and shared two communions with strangers and friends — now neighbors. I would not be the same again.

Tell a story to someone about when you left a service of worship different than when you arrived. When has an ordinary meal been transformed into sacred space for you? What life events invited your transformation and how did you respond? 

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Inspiring Neighbors 082424

50 years ago, April 3, 1974, a tornado devastated most of our neighborhood in East Louisville. Without electricity analog clocks read 4:42 for over a week; without food or water my wealthy neighbors were desperate; without structural support homes lay in ruins; without trees our vision was expanded. 

Our church, Second Presbyterian, sat on a hill that the tornado bounced around. Everyone lifted our eyes to the church on a hill for help. Major Mott of the Salvation Army arrived with generators, water, food, and caring leadership. He didn’t say, “I alone can fix this”; he didn’t try to con money out of our suffering; he didn’t denigrate anyone for who they were; he didn’t wall off suggested solutions; he didn’t complain about an inconvenience dulling his image. 

He did divide us — by dividing us into teams to work as one community to help all our neighbors. Some cooked meals, some moved water tanks, some helped search for valuables, some collected bricks to recycle. Me? I climbed on remaining roofs to place protection preventing further damage. I was inspired to do what I had never done before — climb a ladder onto my first roof, then my second, then my third….. all to do something to help strangers move into transformed futures.

When mom’s friend looked up and said, “Wallis, how did you get up on that roof?” I yelled down, “I don’t really know how I got up here!” I didn’t know at 17 what I know now. I was lifted up there because of loving servant leadership in the name of Jesus who came “not to be served but to serve.” 

Who inspired you to do something you’d never done before to improve lives? When have you helped neighbors you didn’t know before? Where have you found hope in devastating events?