Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 4 Comments

What If? 09-15-2025

During 40 years of pastoral counseling and hospice chaplaincy I’ve walked with many youth and adults who were asking, “What if?” Most questions of “What if” involve life & death — what if the.…  gun, car, disease, decision, protection, other person….  Eventually an answer to the question lies in discovering there is none. After all, “control is an illusion fueled by emotion.”

Last night I returned from my 1st & 50th high school reunion in Louisville. In 7th grade I entered the competitive college-prep arena. Our all-boys school merged with an all-girls school my sophomore year which proved to be excellent timing. We mourned 4 of the 66 in my class who had died. 

I was filled with all the curiosity, emotions, baggage, and appreciation I anticipated. I was surprised that my sense of being overlooked in high school was dispelled by warm welcomes, fond memories, and new discoveries. I was grateful my quest of “do no harm” led to not needing to dodge anyone.

I found myself asking, “What if?” What if I’d dated or kept dating someone? What if I’d come home to my father’s business? What if I didn’t focus on my present and kept in touch with my past? What if I lived the life others lived? 

Driving home we listened to Sirius 7 — Casey Kasem’s “American Top 40” from 9/72 (the month the ladies arrived). I honored my wife with Garth Brook’s 1990 song, “Unanswered Prayers.” It occurred to me that “What Is!” is more important than “What if?” I can fantasize, bemoan, envy, all the ifs. I can live into, relish, be grateful for, and respond to my one life that is. Relishing the full abundant loving life that is mine to live unlocks my gratitude and service.

When have you asked “What if?” What were the circumstances? When have you been present to and aware of “What is!”? How has appreciating “what is” affected your outlook on life? 

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 3 Comments

Moby Dick 03122025

I don’t recall reading every word of Moby Dick after “Call me Ishmael”, but I do remember my high school classmates calling the book “The Biggest Dick”. Maybe it was the size of the tome or a synopsis of Captain Ahab. Melville scholars say the original title was “Mocha Dick — the White Whale.” Today a small cell phone is a “Moby” and a “Trenta” is the biggest Iced Mocha at Starbucks.

Speaking of Starbucks…. my favorite character in the 1851 novel is the first mate “Starbuck”. He repeatedly warns Ahab that his egotistical maniacal quest is suicidal for the ship’s crew, immoral for humanity, and against the laws of nature. Seeing the captain has no well-reasoned pragmatic plan, no boundaries on his narcissism, no sense of morality, no limit to his prideful retaliatory vengeance, no compassion for the crew, Starbuck contemplates ever more drastic actions to stop him before it’s too late.

Even though he’s their first mate, the crew chooses to remain loyal to Ahab’s powerful personality. Over against the crew’s increasing unease and fear throughout their erratic voyage, the captain’s charisma and his promise of a fleeting future financial reward keep them cowardly conspiring to sail the ship to its destruction. 

Like the captain and crew, Starbuck suffers the consequences he tried to prevent. The sole survivor is Ishmael, rescued by another ship while floating on the coffin of his best friend, Queequeg, a skilled harpooner from a different race and culture.

Fourscore minus seven years ago, and a century after the novel, the film starring Gregory Peck, and directed by John Houston was released. If you watch it or read it, what are your reactions to this work of fiction?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Questioning Writings 013125

On my 21st birthday, during my cousin’s funeral, I learned it was good to disagree with those who seek to represent God. As we sang the comforting hymn “our God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come…” my aunt said, “I hate that idea; it’s not true for me or helpful at all.”

The battle-line was “time like an ever-rolling stream bears every child away; they fly forgotten as a dream dies at the opening day.” Before the closing “Amen” my aunt leaned over to say, “My daughter is not and never will be forgotten!!!!” Grieving mothers, like all God’s creatures, need to speak their truth in love.

Soon, in addition to evaluating poems, God gave me the freedom to evaluate human ideas expressed in Biblical passages. Among the many views over the millennia of expressions I would question what was true in my experience, what was helpful and life-giving, what inspired beauty, compassion, equality, love, and what best expressed God’s vision for an abundant life for this planet. Sometimes a Biblical writer’s expression of God was “not true for me or helpful at all” but most of their insights transformed my life.

As Rainer Rilke taught me: “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a foreign tongue. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Living the questions has been helpful and true for me.

What questions do you live into without simple answers? How have you found God encouraging you to seek what is true and helpful from the writings of others? How do tyrants who don’t allow questions without retribution seem anti-Christlike to you?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 1 Comment

Checkmate 110624 (100520)

{I wrote this on Oct. 5, 2020 for the church I served then. Recycling today…}

I’m not sure if it was 5th or 6th grade, but I remember the humiliation. I competed in my school’s chess tournament and I won each match until the finals!  The championship game was played in front of our entire class. My time in the spotlight ended in four moves.

Before it barely began, it was over; 4 moves — checkmate. While my classmates were spared the boredom of a long match, I was publicly defeated. Then it got worse. A friend said, “Don’t feel so bad, Wallis.  He beat everyone else like that. He learned those moves from the Encyclopedia Britannica. It’s called ‘Fool’s Mate’.”  After years of playing chess, I suffered the agony of defeat at the hands of a kid who looked up “chess” in an encyclopedia — making a fool out of me.

When I later learned the correct term is “Scholar’s Mate”, I still felt foolish. Furthermore, I felt frustration that no one had warned me. Why didn’t my friends inform me about how he’d beat them? Was anyone really my friend? Why hadn’t I looked up chess instead of playing it? Why couldn’t I have lost earlier before the finals? How would I live with my public and private humiliation?

Maybe that’s one of my early calls to ministry. In this version of “Scholar’s Mate”, I study the Bible, commentaries, and the teachings of spiritual leaders more than many. I spend a lot of my time warning my friends. I am sensitive to listening for the pride and humiliation in others because of my experience. I learned life lessons from the consequences of playing childhood chess; thankfully the cost of those lessons was low.

God offers us choices and consequences in our lives. We are given the choice to learn lessons from our experience, or to ignore them. I believe God allows us to suffer the consequences of our actions, because “we not punished for our sin as much as we are punished by our sin.”  Some lessons are learned when the cost of our choice is low. Some lessons are delayed until the cost is greater. Sometimes we suffer the consequences of the choices of others.

How have your past life lessons impacted your present?  What are the consequences of your choices and actions teaching you today?  How do you open your heart, mind, and body to what God is trying to teach you in your personal checkmate?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 2 Comments

Shibboleth  103124

As a break from watching candidates’ speeches and interviews, we’ve been watching “West Wing” on HBO. That sentence may raise anxiety about my mental meds still working — they are. The season 2, Nov 22, 2000 Thanksgiving episode called “Shibboleth” is my favorite. I laugh at CJ’s turkeys; I tear up when President Bartlet entrusts Charlie with his carving knives passed from father to son; I am inspired by an obscure Biblical story from a catholic president’s character — the character displayed by the character portrayed.

A boatload of Chinese evangelical Christians arrive in California seeking asylum for being persecuted for their faith. How does anyone determine if they are sincere in their life-threatened beliefs or just saying pre-scripted words to get into this country? Bartlet cites the metaphor of “shibboleth”. In Judges 12:6 it was not just knowing the word meant “corn” or “river”. It was how you pronounced the word tested trust. The dialect difference between saying Shibboleth instead of Sibboleth let you know whose side you were on. 

There’s a man who bragged on tape he grabbed women’s genitals whether they like it or not because he’s the star…. who owes five million dollars to E. Jean Carol because an impartial jury believed legal evidence he sexually assaulted and defamed her whether she liked it or not….  who tried to use lies, intimidation, and violence to steal an election whether the majority of  voters liked it or not. Last night I heard that man promise: “I’ll protect women whether they like it or not.” That was the wrong speech — autonomous women needing autocratic patriarchal protection to make decisions for their lives. Maybe Sibboleth is a bunch of corn that floats down a river of shi…..bboleth.

Nine days ago, as a pastor and hospice chaplain I was interested in hearing the Vice-President’s answer to the CNN town hall questions on grief and her faith. “I pray every day; sometimes twice a day. I was raised in church to believe in a loving God, to believe that your faith is a verb — how you live your life, how you can serve in a way that is uplifting other people, caring for other people — that guides a lot of how I think about my work and what is important.” 

How do I know if that’s genuine or a script used to get in? Soon she said she called her pastor Amos Brown, the Sunday the president announced he would no longer seek the nomination. She said, “I just called him. I needed that spiritual kind of connection. I needed advice. I needed a prayer. There’s a part of the scripture that talks about Esther, ‘such a time as this,’ and that’s what we talked about. And it was very comforting for me.” Citing the Bible’s book of Esther and knowing Mordecai said to her, “Who knows if you’ve been placed here for such a time as this?” — that was true shibboleth for me.

What is your shibboleth? How do you determine who is genuine and trustworthy in your life? How do you measure yours and other’s words and actions?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 2 Comments

Abortion Silence Oct 28, 2024

My public church sermons center on the Bible. Since the Bible is silent on abortion, so was I. My leading inquisitive youth groups included “God’s gift of sexuality” materials. Our safe sharing focused more on committed relationships (plus STD and pregnancy prevention) than abortion; however, any written submission to the “question box” was discussed. In private counseling I walked with christian women through problem pregnancies. My questions helped them make their best choices because I trust women to do what is right. These writings have been called “Reflections and Questions” because in my experience, good questions help people discover the best answers for their lives within them.

When I was an associate pastor, I befriended a female associate rabbi. We had most of the Bible (and issues playing second fiddle) in common. She asked me, “Do you know a reason rabbis don’t protest women’s health clinics?” I said, “I guess rabbis ask questions rather than scream shameful statements.” She said, “Nice try. It’s because we study Torah (the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures).” I asked, “What do you read there?” She taught me……

In the second story of creation, God forms the “earthling” out of the “earth” (Hebrew: Adam/man out of Adamah/ground). Genesis 2:7 — then “God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living being.” Life begins with the breath of life and ends when God’s breath leaves. In fact the name for God, Yah-weh (I am who I am), sounds like breathing. Yahweh — we breathe God’s name as long as we live. The possibility for life may begin at conception through gestation, but God tells us when life itself begins — the first breath of life.  

She then filled my silent reflection with more mundane Torah… Exodus 21:22-24 “When men who are fighting injure a pregnant woman so that there is a miscarriage, and the woman is not harmed, the one responsible shall be fined what the woman’s husband demands, paying as much as the judges determine. If the woman dies, then you shall give life for life.” Back when patriarchy viewed wives and children as property, causing a miscarriage was a monetary fine for the loss of a future possible child (not murder); the death of a woman was punished as taking a life; other harm to the woman was punished by equivalent recompense. The difference makes all the difference.

If you live in Missouri how will you decide on Amendment 3 to our state constitution that restores the reproductive rights an old law removed? How much do you trust women and physicians to make good decisions? How much do you trust outsiders seeking the power to control you? When have you experienced good intentions result in bad consequences?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 1 Comment

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)

Betrayal 10-03-2024

Her name was Leslie? I seldom mention names in these reflections, but it may have been fake. She sprung into my frat house the spring of my sophomore year at Emory. For weeks, we shared several socials together until I left for summer study in Vienna, Austria. Upon my return in the fall, I fell into two betrayals.

The first was a feared betrayal that wasn’t. The fraternal code was broken by a brother seeking to oversee Leslie’s availability — while I was unavailable overseas. Like Jacob to his brother Esau, he was afraid of how I might react to being betrayed. I told the three friends sent to “confess on his behalf” that I really had no claim on or plans for a relationship. I trusted women to make decisions about their lives.

The betrayal that didn’t matter resulted in the one that did. I was told that Leslie lied to me. He wanted to protect me with his discovery that she was in high school, not college; she lived at home, not an apartment, and on and on. I didn’t want to believe it. How could I have been so gullible? What kind of person would lie repeatedly? What was her motive? Experiencing someone who knows the truth while repeatedly lying dispelled my naïveté.

Some of her statements that had seemed a little off, now began to make sense. My ego-protecting denial eroded, as my pride crumbled. Everyone knew I had been conned; they saw the usurper as the better investigator. I wonder how that experience influenced my future visceral reactions to religious and political leaders who confidently con followers with deception. I hope my embarrassment helped my compassion for other people — I wouldn’t want to waste the pain.

When have you realized someone had been lying to you? How did you react? What actions ended or restored your trust? How long did it take to move forward?

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?