Devotional 4-12-14

Take My Mother Home

John 19:26–27

26 When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” 27 and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.

Francis Hall Johnson was born in Athens, Georgia, on March 12, 1888, to Alice Sansom Johnson and William Johnson, an African Methodist Episcopal bishop.  Hall showed musical talent at an early age and studied piano. In 1910 he graduated from the University of Pennsylvania with a bachelor’s degree in music. Hall taught violin, played in orchestras, and founded the Hall Johnson Choir which performed in films such as Lost Horizon, Dumbo, and Cabin in the Sky. In 1951 he composed his Easter cantata, The Son of Man. One of the numbers from that cantata was “Take My Mother Home”, a spiritual made famous by Harry Belafonte on his album Belafonte, recorded by RCA Victor in 1956. To hear it, go to youtube.com.

“TAKE MY MOTHER HOME” by Hall Johnson
I think I heard Him say, when He was struggling up the hill
I think I heard Him say, take my mother home
Then I'll die easy, take my mother home
I'll die so easy, take my mother home.

I think I heard Him say, when they was raffling off His clothes
I think I heard Him say, take my mother home
I think I heard Him cry, when they was nailing in the nails
I think I heard Him cry, take my mother home

I'll die this death on Calvary, ain't gonna die no more
I'll die on Calvary, ain't gonna die no more
Ain't gonna die no more

I think I heard Him say, when He was giving up the ghost
 I think I heard Him say, please, take my mother home
Please, take my mother home

For six decades I have listened to the Easter story as it was read, sung, or projected on film. All forms of the story have molded my understanding of Jesus’ sacrifice for my sake. But the four-year-old inside me who first heard Belafonte’s rendition has always pictured a tortured Mary at the base of the cross watching her son die.  The mother in me aches for Mary.

Jesus, the son of God, was crucified. I can never repay that.  The child of God that I am gets that. Jesus, the son of Mary, was crucified. I can never repay that either.  The mother that I am gets that even more.
Prayer – Heavenly Father, thank you for your son and the sacrifice you both made for me. Thank you also for all those who raised him, followed him, loved him. I owe a debt I can never repay. Amen

Information from New Georgia Encyclopedia

Becky Warren

Devotional 3-12-13

Feel the Love

Psalm 126
1 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.
2 Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.”
3 The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.
4 Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.
5 Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.
6 Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them.

Could I be more blessed? I don’t think so. It’s 7:00 on a Sunday morning, and I’m sitting on the couch, sipping a hot cup of coffee, watching my grandchildren sleep. The sun, giving a preview of the gorgeous day we have in store, is peeking through the blinds. I suddenly realize that if I were consciously storing memories – if I were a Giver or Receiver - this would be one I would keep.

In Lois Lowry’s novel The Giver, twelve-year-old Jonas lives in a community where Sameness is the main goal. To keep the citizens from feeling anything close to psychological or physical pain, the community has scientifically engineered or altered everything. At first the reader is impressed by the temperate climate and daily interactions between family members. But each chapter brings new realizations that make this utopian society a nightmare rather than a dream.

At the Ceremony of Twelve, when Jonas and his friends are given their occupations by the Committee of Elders, Jonas learns that he is to be the Receiver of Memories. The former Receiver – now the Giver – transfers all of the ancient memories of the community to Jonas. Jonas’s favorite memory is one in which parents, children, and grandparents are celebrating Christmas. He feels something in the room he has never felt in his own home. The memory tells him it’s love. That is the moment that Jonas realizes what he and others have given up in order to be “protected”. Jonas figures out that seeds of love and commitment must be sown if joy is to be harvested. His love and commitment are tested before the story concludes.

You and I are lucky because we have two distinct advantages over Jonas. First of all, we’re real; second, just as God brought the Israelites out of Babylon, He delivered us from evil and allowed His son to take our place on the cross. If you were a Giver, what memories would you give to others that would convey God’s love? Take a moment today to list those memories, those blessings. Could we be more blessed? I don’t think so.

Heavenly Father, thank You for the blessings You have given us. Help us to remember that in order to harvest Your blessings, we may have to endure pain. And while that pain may be separation from those we love, we will remember their lives and know we’ve been blessed.
In the name of Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Becky Warren

Devotional 2-29-12

A Vision

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
(Shhh, it’s alright. Grammy loves you.)
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
(That’s it. Close your eyes and go to sleep.)
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night.
(Here’s your blanket. Here’s your bottle.)
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
(Pappy loves you, too.)

When my grandson, Landon, began to spend the night with Grammy and Pappy, he had a little trouble getting to sleep. No matter how hard Don and I tried to replicate his nightly routine, we were not Mom and Dad. To distract him and put him at ease, I decided to sing a lullaby. Unfortunately I didn’t know any. So I chose the most soothing song I knew, “Be Thou My Vision”. At first I got some of the stanzas a little confused, but by the time his sister Ruby was born, I could sing them all with the confidence of a rock star. They both loved it, and I loved sharing it with them.

“Be Thou My Vision” was originally a poem commonly attributed to Saint Dallan Forgaill. He was given the name Dallan, which means “little blind one,” after he lost his sight as the result of studying intensely. He was killed in 598 when pirates broke into the island monastery of Inniskeel, County Donegal. His poem was part of monastic tradition for centuries before it was translated from Old Irish into English by Mary Elizabeth Byrne in 1905. The English text was first versified by Eleanor Hull in 1912, and that version, set to the tune of Slane, is the one we have in our hymnal. (Wikipedia)

Recently the Sanctuary Choir at Johnson Memorial United Methodist Church began practicing “Be Thou My Vision” for the March 4 anthem. I had sung it many times, but this time, instead of focusing on the beautiful melody, I looked at the text. What did the author mean by a “vision”? Was he talking about his sight, a religious experience, a mental image of what the future might be? Maybe he was referring to all of these definitions and more!

While I do not pretend to know what a poet was thinking 1500 years ago, I do know what Forgaill’s words say to me today. They tell me that when he turned off his TV, computer, phone, Xbox, ( oops, that would be us) and focused on Jesus, he found love, wisdom, joy, truth, a loving and protective father, and most importantly an inheritance of grace. Let’s turn off our gadgets, tune in to prayer and study, and see if we can find our Vision. That would make this hymn so much more than a lullaby.

Let this be your Lenten prayer of rededication.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Becky Warren

Why Am I Crying?

We were singing a hymn. That’s all. We were singing a hymn when my eyes welled up and mascara tears that could rival Tammy Faye Baker’s streamed down my face. I thought to myself, “Why am I crying?”

Okay. I’ll admit that I was a little drowsy from a restless night with my grandchildren and due to “springing forward” to Daylight Savings Time. But I had gone without sleep many times in my many years without bursting into uncontrollable sobs. So why was I crying?

And who wouldn’t be moved by the beautiful lyrics and melodies of “Amazing Love!” by Charles Wesley and “A Rose in the Valley” by Joseph Martin? One haunting line after another had played in my mind for weeks! But I’d sung a multitude of melodies which had moved me to introspection but rarely to sniffles. So why was I crying?

Of course, being a geography teacher, I was acutely aware of the turmoil and grief that had taken over the lives of men, women, and children in Japan, Egypt, Tunisia, Libya, and Bahrain. They were living nightmares that I could only imagine in my safe haven of Huntington, West Virginia. But I had seen misery and pain before. So why was I crying?

Was I upset by the tanking economy brought on by greed, selfishness, arrogance, and naiveté? It had toppled those at the top of the pyramid and trickled down to those who made a living in serving those at the top. But I hadn’t lost a job, I hadn’t missed a meal, and what I had lost, I didn’t need. So why was I crying?

Finally, as I looked out at the congregation, I knew. I was crying because the hymn and my heart, for the first time in a long time, listened to each other. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say that it came from a primitive instinct rather than a conscious “knowing”. I felt a love for everyone in the congregation, the church building, the spirit of the church, all those who had gone before, and all who would come after. And I felt a deep gratitude to the Father and the Son who had brought me to that place, at that time, with those people.

The hymn we sang was “I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry”. Even if you don’t know the tune, please read the words. Take your time. Read slowly. Remember your baptism if you can. Remember the patience of your youth leaders and Sunday school teachers. Remember how your parents nagged you to go to church. Remember how your choir directors taught you more than singing the right notes. Remember sitting in true fellowship with your teenage friends in the balcony. Remember standing at the altar with the love of your life. Remember saying goodbye to those who now know what the great surprise really is.

I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold.
I was there when you were but a child,
with a faith to suit you well;
In a blaze of light you wandered off
to find where demons dwell."

When you heard the wonder of the Word
I was there to cheer you on;
You were raised to praise the living Lord,
to whom you now belong.
If you find someone to share your time
and you join your hearts as one,
I'll be there to make your verses rhyme
from dusk 'till rising sun.

In the middle ages of your life,
not too old, no longer young,
I'll be there to guide you through the night,
complete what I've begun.
When the evening gently closes in,
and you shut your weary eyes,
I'll be there as I have always been
with just one more surprise.

I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold.

Now remember that your heavenly Father and his Lamb were with you all the time. That’s something to cry about – but only tears of joy! Amen

Becky Warren

Devotional 3-14-10

Morning Thankfulness

Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings every morning,
thank you, Lord, that I can hear.
Many are deaf.

Even though I keep my eyes tightly closed against the morning light as long as possible,
thank you, Lord, that I can see.
Many are blind.

Even thought I huddle in my bed and put off getting up,
thank you, Lord, that I have strength to rise.
Many are bedfast.

Even though the first hour of the day is hectic – socks are lost, toast is burned, tempers are short-
thank you, Lord, for my family.
Many are lonely.

Even though our breakfast table never looks like those in the women’s magazines and the menu is sometimes unbalanced,
thank you, Lord, for the food we have.
Many are hungry.

Even though my house feels too small and its outdated furniture is showing wear,
thank you, Lord, for its warmth and protection.
Many are homeless.

Even though my job is often monotonous,
thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to work.
Many are unemployed.

Even though I grumble from morning to morning and wish my circumstances were different,
thank you, Lord, for your gift of life.

The first time that I read “Morning Thankfulness”, it was printed in the Johnson Memorial UMC May 16, 1993, bulletin at a time when Betsy and Anna were preteens, my parents were battling devastating illnesses which would eventually take their lives, and I was suffering from teacher burn-out. None of this was good for a marriage besieged by money woes and a serious case of “I do more than you”.

As I read each line, I was ashamed that I had not been more grateful for all of the blessings God had given me. When I arrived home that afternoon, I cut the poem from the bulletin and posted it on the refrigerator, where for seventeen years it served as a constant reminder of God’s love for me.

I hope it will do the same for you.

Becky Warren

To leave a comment for the author, go to http://jmlent.blogspot.com

Devotional 3-10-09

The Law

When I was a little girl, Easter was a very special family holiday. My mom and dad, Ruby and John Wright, would make sure that Jimmy, Bert, and I had new or presentable clothing in celebration of the new season. They also made sure that the Easter bunny paid us a visit even when we no longer believed in her. Easter dinner consisted of pot roast with onions, potatoes, and carrots; my mom, a home-ec major, was the best cook this side of Heaven. My dad always had his Brownie ready for the traditional shot by the daffodils in the back yard. And even though there were probably some cloudy, cold Easters, the child in me only remembers the sun warming my newly exposed arms as I raced to the Pontiac that would carry me to Johnson Memorial Methodist Church.

My Easter outfits always came from one of two places, my mother’s sewing machine or “the box”. Even though there was no Ebay at that time, nor do I remember visiting any resale shops, I do know that moms and grandmas made sure that good used clothes were passed down to family and neighbors. A grandmother in my Wilson Court neighborhood purchased beautiful, well-made dresses, skirts, and play clothes for a granddaughter who was slightly older than I. As Sarah outgrew the clothes, they were carefully packed in a box and delivered to my house. I never knew if my mother purchased the clothes or if they were a gift. Either way, opening the box each season was as much fun as opening presents on Christmas morning.

To enhance my outfits, my parents would usually put a small gift in my Easter basket – a piece of jewelry or a toy. They weren’t extravagant or expensive gifts, but they were special to me. My favorites were a silver bracelet with a tiny mustard seed ornament attached, a delicate silver cross necklace, and a silver charm bracelet. My favorite charm, the one that came with the bracelet, was a tiny replica of the Ten Commandments. I could even read the Commandments on the charm! I quizzed my family on the way to church; I think that my parents knew that it would spark a good conversation about how we were supposed to act and what we were expected to do.

I was reminded of that bracelet when I read one of the lectionary readings for this week, Exodus 20: 1-17. You and I know this as the Ten Commandments. You may have these verses in your long-term memory, but for those of us who don’t, I’ve listed them below.

1. And God spake all these words, saying,
2. I am the LORD thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage (Can’t you just hear Charlton Heston’s voice?
3. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.
4. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.
5. Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;
6. And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments,
7. Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain; for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
8. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.
9. Six days shalt thou labor, and do all they work:
10. But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor they daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:
11. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.
12. Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy God giveth thee.
13. Thou shalt not kill.
14. Thou shalt not commit adultery.
15. Thou shalt not steal.
16. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
17. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbor’s.

As I look at these ancient laws again, I remember that the child in me saw nothing very difficult in following these laws. I imagine that my parents gave each other that knowing smile that means “Just you wait, little girl.”

I have waited for over fifty years, and I still think that God’s Commandments should not be hard to follow. But I also know that free will (my husband calls it obstinance) has led me away from God’s laws. It is during those time that I have called on Jesus Christ to intercede on my behalf – to save me from myself – to remind me how I’m supposed to act and what I’m expected to do as a child of God and a Christian. Only Easter has made that possible.

Dear Jesus, thank you for a love that surpasses all laws. Be with us as we make our Lenten journey to that glorious Easter Day when to save us, you break all laws of time and space. In Your name we pray. Amen

Becky Warren

Mission Prayer and Response Focus:

March 10: Give fifty cents for each person in your house who was in 4H. Give 1.00 for every animal you raised as part of your project!

Devotional 2-16-08

Giving Up
Lent is a time of year when Christians, in order to show their penitence for any wrong-doing, will give up something that they love to show their devotion to Jesus Christ. I’m not one who regularly takes part in the deprivation, but one year I decided to give up disliking one of my teaching colleagues.

The lady in question was one of “those teachers” who could not or would not control her students. They would roam the hallways where they would accost unsuspecting children and ruin the test scores for the rest of the school. Since I wasn’t the principal, it wasn’t my place to straighten her out, but that didn’t keep me from glaring at her every time I saw her. She knew that I disapproved of her teaching techniques, so she in turn disliked me.

As time went by, it was quite obvious that we were at war. During staff meetings I would sit on the opposite side of the room. If we were the only people in the hallway, we didn’t speak to one another. Ordinarily that would have bothered me because I really don’t look for conflict, but I just couldn’t seem to get over my anger.

Then the Lenten season came around, and I got the great idea that I would give up my anger and please God at the same time. I decided that I would bend over backward to be nice, even if it killed me.

The next day, when we passed in the hall, I called her by name and told her how much I liked her dress. She looked at me suspiciously. A few days later I stopped by her room to tell how nice her bulletin boards looked. She smiled and thanked me, but I knew she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then she came by my room to give me a message from the principal’s office. While she was there, she shared a little gossip and we laughed conspiratorially.

You probably think that I’m going to tell you that we became best friends; I’m not. I will tell you that she and I did find common ground on many topics and were sincerely kind to one another for the remainder of our time together. Her students continued to roam the halls, and I’m sure I somehow offended her on a daily basis, but what started out as a contrived “giving up” became a bond between two headstrong women.

Since that time I have moved to another school and another staff. One day as I surfed the Internet, I ran across one of my favorite sayings. It has been attributed to many people, so I won’t pretend to know who really wrote it.

If you sow a thought, you’ll reap an act.
If you sow an act, you’ll reap a habit.
If you sow a habit, you’ll reap a character.
If you sow a character, you’ll reap a destiny.

During this Lenten season you don’t have to give up candy or pop, even though that might be a good idea. Try giving up the anger you hold inside. Try giving in to the will of Jesus Christ. Just give.

Becky Warren