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) · 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) · 2 Comments

With God On Our Side 090424

My deepest theological roots were watered by the poetry of Bob Dylan. As a youth I spent hours each day in the presence of two-sided LPs by BD, JB, K3, AG, S&G, and PPM. Meanwhile, each unrhythmic Sunday sermon was sort of listened to one time only. Baez’s rendition of Dylan’s song “With God On Our Side” inspired a lifetime of resisting religious justification for the conquest of violent victories. “If God were on our side, he’d stop the next war.”

As I matured, I learned that the third commandment was not about childish cussing. Using the Lord’s name in a “wrongful way” (or in vain) was more about misrepresenting God. Thou shalt not use God to justify actions that actually go against God’s desire for us. Thou shalt not say God is on our side and against them — when we proclaim “there is no them”. Thou shalt not use God’s name to justify violence, oppression, racism, sexism, pyramids over tables, to name a few.

Later still I was taught that the worst wars and most violent acts in human history have been done in the name of God — and the times aren’t changing today. The song “With God On Our Side” revealed the importance of learning lessons from history instead of ignoring or distorting history; after all, every LP has 2 sides. How many times can a preacher proclaim the all-powerful prefers “his” politician? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.

Which song lyrics have influenced your beliefs and impacted your life? What songs inspire you,, lift you up, and bring you joy? Which genre of music spoke to each age and stage of your life?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 3 Comments

Right to Pray Right Aug 28, 2024

At 17 I asked myself whether God had spared my church and my home when the 4/3/74 tornado did damage all around both. Had I done something right to be rewarded? Had others suffered God’s wrathful punishment? Should I thank God for sparing “me and my house” who serve the Lord our way, while punishing those outside my “tribe”? Is it just to pray, “Thank you God for sparing me and destroying them”?

When I read Matthew 5, I see that God gives the sun’s warmth and the rain’s nourishment to the just and the unjust, the nice and the nasty alike. God doesn’t play favorites and neither should I by only loving the lovable. 

As a teacher of “Becoming a Love and Logic Parent” I learned that allowing consequences to befall behavior is more effective than rewards and punishments. I came to believe that God’s ways are not transactional – the art of the deal. God’s ways are relational – compassionately suffering with us as we learn and mature through the consequences of our choices.

I am thankful that I have the right to pray anywhere, anytime. I am thankful I have the right not to be preyed upon by those who force their prayers on me. I seek to use my right to pray to pray right. When I request something from God, I talk to God about how it might affect others.

A rabbi’s deep wisdom asked me a question, “If you are heading home, and you see smoke coming from your neighborhood, is it ethical to pray, ‘O God, don’t let it be my house.’”

How do you answer the rabbi’s question? Where do you see God portrayed as punishing us BY our sin (consequences) instead of FOR our sin (retribution)? Which God are you drawn to?

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?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Love Can Build a Bridge 08-20-24

This week, Nancy and I were blessed to travel with 24 Missouri friends to Grand Cayman. We had arranged our days around Paul & Julie Overstreet as he gave private performances at each sunset — on the beach, in a bar, on a sailboat. I knew many songs Paul wrote, but I learned that he co-wrote with Naomi Judd and John Barlow Thomas “Love Can Build a Bridge”.

I told Paul that when I heard about the Judds farewell concert in 1991 and Naomi’s hepatitis C that was making her weak and her lifespan uncertain, I watched it live on TV (now on YouTube). The last song was Naomi’s farewell: “love can build a bridge between your heart and mine, love can build a bridge, don’t you think it’s time.” 

When a choir came out and Wynonna belted out the “bridge” to the song: “When we stand together, it’s our finest hour; we can do anything, keep believin’ in the power,” I lost it. I sat in front a TV with two singers I didn’t know and a song I’d never heard before, and I wept slobbering tears. Maybe it was their authenticity, the beauty of the song, the ill farewell, my marriage bridge crumbling.

Just before saying, “It’s been quite a ride,” Naomi reassured her daughter with the words: “I believe in love; and I believe in hope” and she looked up to God; that only added to my flowing waters, because I still believe in love over indifference and hope over despair.

As a caring human being, I don’t trust people who build walls of separation and tear down others with cruel attacks. As a disciple of Jesus, I seek to be a bridge builder recalling that faith, hope, and love can build a bridge, because we can do anything, anything when we stand together…. don’t you think it’s time?

Which song moved you the first time you heard it? (I invite you to share your story with a person you trust.) When have you been fully present to an event that was so authentic you felt a part of that community? How are you seeking to stand together with others to be love’s bridge builder. 

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Bearing Fruit  August 12, 2024

In one of the seven authentic letters the Apostle Paul wrote in the New Testament, Paul says to the church at Galatia (Galatians 5 for those playing at home) that for freedom God has has set us free in the loving way of Jesus. He warns: do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.

Paul writes 2000 years ago that “the works of the flesh are obvious…. adultery, impurity, licentiousness, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, and things like these.” Those behaviors remain obvious today by those convicted of abuse of power, who divide with fear, who are only faithful to themselves, and whose lies reveal crowd envy.

But then Paul continues with the positive: “By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” You can never be legally indicted for bearing any of the fruits of the Spirit.

These are not the “gifts of the spirit” — something you inherit or receive. These are fruits — something you cultivate, seek, enjoy, show, and are nourished by as you grow in love and service to God and all humanity.

Friends of mine at “Life in the Trinity Ministry” decided Protestants need prayer beads too; Catholics shouldn’t have a monopoly. For ten years I’ve used the 9 beads to pray for the grace to cultivate the 9 fruits of the sprit in my life.  Over time, that one spiritual practice can be transformative.

Where do you see freedom and joy expressed right now? How are you attracted to people who bear the fruit of kindness and self-control? How do you seek to cultivate love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control in your life?