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)

Clergy Killer Response Aug 14, 2024

The book I read in 1999, Clergy Killers by Lloyd Redinger, (Westminster John Knox Press, 1997) lists on page 9 the 6 D’s that flawed and fatal bullies faithfully follow.

  1. Destructive: Clergy killers are marked by intentional destructiveness. They don’t just disagree or criticize, they insist on inflicting pain and damaging their targets. Their tactics include sabotage, subverting worthy causes, inciting others to do their dirty work.
  2. Determined: Clergy killers don’t stop. They may go underground or change tactics, but they will find ways to intimidate and break any rules of decency to accomplish their destruction.
  3. Deceitful: Clergy killers manipulate, camouflage, misrepresent, and accuse others of their own tactics. Their statements and negotiations are not trust-worthy. As masters of disguise they present themselves as pious members, who are “only doing this for the good of the church.” Often they convince naive parishioners that they are raising legitimate issues.
  4. Demonic: Clergy killers are evil and may be mentally disordered, depending on how you define behaviors that do not yield to patience and love, or honor human decency. Other leaders become symbols and scapegoats for the internal pain they feel.
  5. Denial: Most of us don’t want to admit to the reality of clergy killers, nor do we acknowledge the intentional damage they cause. Members who believe “this shouldn’t be happening in the church,” convince themselves it isn’t really happening or their threats and terror tactics aren’t that bad; this gives unrestrained power that leaves the church vulnerable.
  6. Discernment: This is the prescriptive sixth “D.” The spiritual gift of discernment is God’s grace that opens eyes to see and understand evil. Discernment is followed by confronting evil, which works best, of course, in a healthy community of faith. (End quote)

Like any body/organism, the best way to overcome a cancer is to strengthen the health of the body. Leaders who recognize this type can act with humor, hope, joy, and compassion (not with a return of violence, prejudice, and hate) to allow God’s grace and love to flow through the community. As with any system, non-reactive and steady leadership builds healthy communities. 

Although this was written 27 years ago for church communities, what speaks to you about whatever communities are yours? How does naming and confronting evil with peace, love, joy, and hope lead to an abundant life? Who in your life’s experiences dod you recall from this type?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Clergy Killers August 13, 2024

In 1999 a pastor in a “Healthy Congregations” workshop told us about a man who told his board, “A lot of people are complaining to me about our pastor.” The board members wisely asked him to identify “a lot of people,” but he refused to name them — “to preserve confidentiality”. They asked for specific examples of complaints; he refused to give them — only generalities. He threatened the board, “You’d better take action because so many of these important members will leave the church and take their donations with them.”

After an investigation, when no evidence was found to back up the threats, the bully relentlessly escalated — accusations now went from he’s not visiting enough to financial and “maybe” sexual abuse. Some wondered what truth there might be to these attacks. The pastor doubted himself and his call to be a servant leader. After his heart attack, when he swore that “the whole church is against me”, it was revealed it was two cruel people who brought the carnage and chaos.

That’s when I read the book Clergy Killers that had been published in 1997. I learned how often clergy killers bully their way to power in a church. When pastors think the whole church was against them, it is almost always 2 or 3 — what we began to call a TLG (that little group).

From the introduction to the book: People rightly often criticize and disagree with their minister, but clergy killers are intentionally destructive. Whether you call them mentally ill or evil, they insist on inflicting pain and damaging their targets. They call on others to do their dirty work, subvert worthy causes, lead acts of sabotage, and cause their victims to self-destruct.  (Pg 9 Clergy Killers: Guidance for Pastors and Congregations Under Attack, G. Lloyd Redinger, 1997, Westminster John Knox Press).

Have you ever experienced someone bent on destruction who says “somebody should look into” some false accusation? What is it about a church that allows clergy killers to gain so much power? Read the book, or stay tuned if you want to learn some positive ways to respond.

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? 

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 2 Comments

Getting It July 24, 2024

Tuesdays with Pauline were spent in the company of our black maid who cleaned our home during my childhood. I remember Pauline’s laughter, her chess pie, her discipline, her love, but I don’t remember her crying…. except once. The second Tuesday of April 1968, I was home from fifth grade watching a funeral procession on our color TV. It reminded me of the one I had watched in first grade on our black and white. Pauline sat with us, shedding so many quiet tears her apron was soaked.  I remember hugging her, but I really didn’t get it.

Twenty years later, the thickest book on my shelf was “A Testament of Hope – The Essential Writings and Speeches of Martin Luther King, Jr.” Unlike too many books around it, I actually read this one — moved by his poetic prophetic preaching. During their annual meeting, the fourth week of April 1988, I was given the Mexico Missouri “NAACP Drum Major for Justice Award”. “Why me?” I asked, “I wasn’t even a ‘C’ in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.” The presenter replied, “Honey, we’re ALL colored by God — there’s just a variety in the complexion.”  I still didn’t get it.

Four years later, the last week of April, my friend and co-leader of youth events was my roomie at a training event at Montreat. The fact that Keith was African American only mattered when we awoke to the news of riots after the Rodney King verdict and I experienced his first reactions. Maybe I was beginning to get it.

The following December Keith and I were at a national training event in Kansas City for “God’s Gift of Human Sexuality” parent and youth curriculum.  After eating with a group at KC’s Country Club Plaza, I drove Keith to the Alameda Plaza, a ritzy hotel on a hill with an outstanding view of the Plaza Christmas Lights. As we walked in I said, “We’ll just ride the elevators up to a top floor and look out at all the lights below and come back down.” Keith said, “I don’t think we should, Wally.” I said, “O come on, Keith. It’s great. Just look like you’re going to your room and catch the view from a hall window. I DO IT ALL THE TIME!” With fear and frustration on his face and in his voice, Keith said, “Obviously you don’t do it in my skin!” I think I got it.

What is your experience of my story?  Whatever “getting it” means to you, what has helped you to or blocked you from “getting it.”

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally) · 3 Comments

Car Keys July 12, 2024

After my father turned 80, he called me on the phone to say, “I just bought my last car….. a Honda Acura.” He added, “But I can still buy green bananas!” Before he turned 90, I drove home to tell him in person it was time to give up driving.

During my drive, I rehearsed the counterpoints to the resistance I anticipated. As a pastor I had made similar visits with other families — just not mine. As most of our conversations revolved around business and finance, I opted for: “You’ll spend a lot less on cab-fare than you spend on insurance and maintenance.”

The request to give up one’s freedom and independence is a tall order. “I just drive to the country club,” he opened, “and I’ve done that all your life.” I offered, “I know you can get there and back. I just worry about the kid on a bike or the car from a driveway. It’s the unexpected that I’m not sure you can react to. And if something happened….. you don’t want to live with that.”

I had never seen anything like it before, but in a flash, just like that, his expression turned from resistance to trust. I was overwhelmed by the trust in me he showed. He said, “Ok, if you think it’s the right thing to do, I’m ready.” His trust inspired my responsibility to never ever abuse it, and I’m at peace that I never did.

His solution was to give his car to a friend. He was guaranteed a lifetime of rides to see his friends — for four more years. 

When did you feel called upon to “speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15)? How do you handle the responsibility of someone trusting you? Who do you trust in your life?

Posted on by Wallis Landrum (Wally)

Suspension  July 4, 2024

The final night’s hotel reservation for my high school trip to Washington, DC would have been the last one anyway. Our group’s taste of freedom and liquor resulted in an ice-bucket water-war that spilled into the hall and the floor below. If I hadn’t participated, it was because I wasn’t invited; I would have done almost anything to fit in. All of us were incriminated in a hotel suite “class action” suit.

The night we returned, my father came to my room to inform me that the school had informed him that I faced a 3-day suspension. (I thought being punished by missing school was like Br’er Rabbit begging Br’er Fox not to be thrown in the brier patch.) Dad and I decided the ground rules for my confinement.

Today, as I recall the disappointment in my father’s eyes, I admire his actions.

He did not let me avoid the consequences, use his influence to get me off, or rescue me from the results. I’ve observed how dangerous powerful people who never are held accountable for their actions can be. I was allowed to take personal responsibility, as I learned a lesson about collective responsibility.

He did not punish the punishment. He allowed the consequences without adding to them. He was not angry or violent; he did not abandon me or withhold his love. He suffered shame with me.

That’s one experience that led to my view about God. We are not punished for our sins; we are punished by our sins. God does not smite us with bad things in our lives. God does not rescue us from the consequences of our personal and collective responsibilities. God does not seek retribution with violence and vengeance. God suffers with us. As I learned in high school Latin “com-passion” literally means to suffer with.

How has seeking to be saved from responsibility kept you from learning from your mistakes? Where do you see the lack of personal and corporate responsibility enabling escalating problems like gun violence and climate change? How has being punished by your sin helped you cultivate an abundant life?