Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 1 Comment

Georgia Baptist 11/13/24

In 1980 my 23rd summer was spent experiencing a semester of Clinical Pastoral Education as a student chaplain. In days of yore when hospitals were not-for-profit, many were founded by religious communities. You didn’t have to be some flavor of baptist to be a patient at Georgia Baptist Hospital in Atlanta. I could stay Presbyterian and work there, too .

I encountered people of many faiths, personalities, and backgrounds when I entered a hospital room as their chaplain. My calling was to walk their path with them – not force them onto my path. It took weeks for me to grow from “I’m just one of the student chaplains here” to “I’m your chaplain.”

It was not easy for me to enter a stranger’s room uninvited. As someone else said, “I pray every time I visit a patient — sometimes out loud.” My worst fears were realized when I walked into one man’s room saying, “Good morning, my name is Wally and I’m your chaplain.” He bellowed from his bed, “Who let you in here? I don’t want a chaplain! I’m an atheist. Get lost.”  

I was so stunned I couldn’t move. Something happened that has only happened a few times in my life. My mouth started moving, but I wasn’t doing the talking. The words that came out of my mouth would never come from me alone. While my body was shaking my mouth asked, “What kind of God do you not believe in?”

The man began to tell me about the vindictive, judgmental, angry God he didn’t believe in. I said, “Wow…. I don’t believe in that God either.” After a few more exchanges, he invited me to sit down as he told me about his life and his father. We were united by a shared un-belief.

What kind of God do you not believe in?  What questions are you asking? How have you experienced a spirit speaking through you in ways you didn’t anticipate or control?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 2 Comments

Dietrich Bonhoeffer  Oct 21 2024

My study of German language & history in college and my study of christianity in seminary came together in one hero: Dietrich Bonhoeffer. At the age of 27, January 1933, two days after Hitler was installed as Chancellor, pastor and teacher Bonhoeffer delivered a radio address in which he warned Germany against “slipping into an idolatrous cult of the Führer (leader), who could very well turn out to be Verführer (misleader, seducer)” before his broadcast was cut off. 

I was transformed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s 1937 seminal book “The Cost of Discipleship” (Nachfolge – following) which contains: “cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without taking the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.” 

The “German Evangelical Church” (Deutsche Evangelische Kirche) revealed just how costly cheap grace can be. As they became the German Christian movement, the evangelical church followed Hitler’s demand (with the threat of violence) that Nazi doctrine be preached by all 18,000 pastors to unify the 45 million protestants in Germany — religion supporting fascism.

Bonhoeffer and others resisted Hitler’s control of the church with their “Confessing Church Movement.” In 1934 the Barmen Declaration (written by theologian Karl Barth) said that Christ is the Head of the Church, not the Führer (leader). The Barmen Declaration remains in our presbyterian church’s “Book of Confessions” in case that question ever came up again. 20% of church leaders took the risk of following Jesus. God only knows why 80% chose Hitler as their Führer (leader) instead of Yahweh. Popular rarely equals righteous.

After leading underground seminaries (forbidden to speak in public), on the 10th anniversary of his radio address about a dictator on day one, he was imprisoned as an enemy from within. Four weeks before Germany’s surrender, Dietrich Bonhoeffer was executed in Flossenbürg Concentration Camp on April 9, 1945. His last book, “Letters and Papers from Prison” was published seven years later to inspire future generations.

If you’d like to learn more, Home Brewed Christianity is in the midst of an excellent online course and podcast called “The Rise of Bonhoeffer”. There’s a new movie about him coming soon. What bells of the past do you hear ringing today? What risks are you taking with your secret ballot?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Miracles 091324

After my post “With God on Our Side” on Sept. 4, I’ve been asked if saying “God saved Trump from assassination” breaks the 3rd commandment – You shall not use God’s name in vain. Was it a miracle? I don’t know. I’m glad he wasn’t another casualty of our children whose parents arm better than combat soldiers. Trump did turn to lie about a misleading graphic as the shot only hit his ear — did it help him listen? I don’t know.

I do know this from comforting those who grieve. God doesn’t stop a bullet, grab the wheel from an impaired driver, or pull the innocent off a cross. God allows our choices and God allows us to suffer the consequences of our choices. God grieves with us even when we take no responsibility for our deeds. 

I do know this from personal experience. When God acts in my life, I see a transformation; I see a change, an improvement that lasts more than a few hours. We all see hope, joy, love, peace, resurrection, compassion, justice, empathy whenever God acts in our world and lives..

I do know this from scripture. God tells Elijah: Don’t look for me in enormous earthquakes or violent winds, or consuming fires. I’m not there. Listen for me in the silence, the still small voice. (1 Kings 19).

Maybe, maybe God’s action was in the small act of our nation’s president Biden getting Covid. When Covid forced him to stop “running” and listen to the still small voice of God and advisors to focus on the remainder of his presidency and pass the mantle to Kamala Harris, was that a miracle? I don’t know. But I wonder. Do you see any signs of transformation, resurrection, hope, joy, unity, empathy, and love? That’s usually a good sign God’s involved.

When have you been transformed by God acting through your suffering beyond your control? What signs do you look for to see God at work in the world? When do you listen in silence to the still small voice of God?

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) · 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)

Life Islands  June 7, 2024

On Sunday evening, as I went into my hospital room, my parents went out. It wasn’t personal; it was business. They had been invited to dinner with the CEO of M.D. Anderson Hospital. I was left alone to listen to “Godspell” on a cassette tape while my youth group was performing it live.

One nurse sensed my sadness. She sat with me as I told her about my friends, my church, and what I was missing that night. Back then, on a slow Sunday, a nurse had time to be present for over an hour. Back then, I was admitted on Sunday for a surgery on Wednesday. I was 18 and healthy, and I needed something to fill the two days of waiting besides feeling sorry for myself.

On Monday my weekend nurse invited me to her weekday floor. Her patients were teenagers with cancer whose immune systems were compromised by chemotherapy. They lived in “life islands” for 3 months in a germ-free environment. Only sterile food and items could be passed into a plastic bubble that surrounded a bed, a chair, and a table. If I entered their space, I could kill them; if I were a companion through the plastic, I could help to heal their isolation.

Except for a few scheduled tests, I had two days of being teenagers together — strangers in a strange land. I wasn’t another cancer patient, parent, sibling, doctor, or nurse — I was someone new to listen, laugh, share, and care. Centering on their needs dispelled my self-centeredness.

Away from my private prep-school, I was becoming a chaplain without credentials. I visited 8 kids one on one. Soon enough I would ask myself: “Was a preppie preparing for a calling?”

How have you answered the question, “What is mine to do?” When has focusing on another’s needs taken your mind off your own? How have past situations become preparations for your future?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Mistaken Miracle June 5, 2024

As my parents and I left home, we were told the hole in my bone looked like cancer; my left arm would probably be amputated before we returned. MD Anderson in 1975 was gigantic even for Texas. One desk would take blood, X-rays across campus, questions in one room, more blood in another. We wondered how 3 days of disparate data could come together.

On D-day (diagnosis day) we toured the Johnson Space Center before our 3 pm appointment. We entered an auditorium of desks filled with 30 students in white coats. My X-rays lit a wall behind an examination table on a stage. Mom’s legs buckled and I helped her into a chair before she hit the floor.

I was invited onto the stage table. Each time I answered a question about a specific symptom, the doctor would nod at me, nod at the room, and 30 white coats would scribble. No severe pain during the day (notes); 2 am wake up with sore arm (notes); aspirin helped me sleep (notes); onset a month or more ago (notes). We 3 were asked to wait outside.

The brief silent wilderness of waiting, watching a hundred promenading strangers facing their own fears, seemed like hours. The auditorium we re-entered now contained only our two doctors. Finally we were told that it was a benign tumor called Osteoid Osteoma; they could cut it out next week. In the moment, the reality of bone surgery on me seemed more frightening than the unreality of cancer; that feeling was fleeting.

One of my parents’ friends told me it was a miracle. God had reached down from heaven and cured me of cancer by changing the tumor. At the time I didn’t say what I thought: “It was more of a mistake than a miracle — a premature diagnosis with insufficient experience.” Later I would wonder if God really reaches in to miraculously change reality for people. If God acts alone to rescue one person, then why does God withhold a miracle from another? Maybe we need better understandings of miracles and how God works with us in our lives.

How do you interpret the metaphor of miracle in the Bible and in your life? If God could, why wasn’t Jesus rescued from state sanctioned execution by the empire? When have you waited for God to change something in your life? Do you wonder if God is waiting for you? How have you been partners with God to bring healing and wholeness?