SATURDAY THOUGHTS: A LOST OPPORTUNITY?

I wasn't able to go to a certain conference this year, and thought, "No problem. I'll just follow it on Twitter or Facebook.

I admit, I was spoiled rotten by the excellent way The Future of Music Coalition utilized social networking during its 2009 summit.

 

Surely, other organizations had embraced technology, and would be, in like fashion, sharing valuable information. 

I couldn't have been more wrong. 

Instead of using available social networking sites to promote its agenda and highlights, spread its ideals, and record its progress and future plans, the organization's conference was essentially ROASTED, minute by embarrassing minute, by some of its own participants. 

The spirit of lighthearted, good fun at THIS roast, however, died along with everyone's sense of discretion. 

I can only hope that something meaningful was going on that no one thought, or had time to report. Based on the testimonies from social networking sites, the conference, for them, was a colossal waste of time. 

Is it fair to draw conclusions based on what one reads in real time, written by people who use goofy aliases? 

When you see the words of people in leadership, however, should you assume that THEIR viewpoints are credible? 

What ax did THEY have to grind with the organization, that would cause them to tweet and post so irresponsibly and mischievously?

Just because one has a right and ability to do or say something, doesn't mean it has to be done.

 

Each day, the timeline from conference attendees gave a global impression that nothing of any relevance was taking place. 

If anyone WAS saying anything worth listening to, it was either not recorded, said too loudly to be bearable to the human ear, or not heard at all.

 

One tweeter, who somehow knew how much was paid for the sound system, suggested that a refund was due.

Considering that they were commenting about an organization, and a genre, to which the Black church and the Word of God is affixed, (whether it adheres to it or not), discretion, kindness, and consideration were sorely lacking. 

It seemed that people were on a deliberate mission to expose, malign and ridicule people, as well the events they strangely bothered to attend.

 
I realize that people have a need to be important and recognized, and one of the easiest ways to do it, is to align themselves with someone or something that has notoriety. 

I realize that many want to be great in Jesus' name, by using his name, but have no intention to give His name any glory. 

People want to be famous. 

People want to be accepted. 

People want to be stars, and the redemptive message of Christ is, in some instances, just an accessory. Many seem to delight in reducing once sacred things to comic status. 

Sometimes, I guess, people just don't know any better.

The vast majority of postings were mean-spirited jokes, criticisms, and swipes at everything from sexual orientation, to hairstyles, to fast food. 

I felt very sad, on the one hand, for the state of our educational system, and on the other for the global perception of African-Americans in the church, and purveyors of gospel music. 

The descriptive language just reminded me, once again, that I'm getting old. 

So and so "took us in". 
Such and such "killed", or "blazed". 
This one is "goin' hard". 
That one was "smashing" or "wrecking". 
If you didn't know any better you would have sworn you were reading about a demolition derby in a remote corner of Hell. 

One post indicated that someone was "preaching his face off", but the poster didn't think to tweet anything the afflicted minister said before his whole face finally hit the floor.

According to the postings, at least a few performers "dumped", "slayed", or "crushed". 

I'm not too old to know that those are no longer reasons to run, take cover, or call a paramedic. 

I suppose they're good things these days in the new-school lexicon of church musical performance, but only a half-a-handful of singers and groups who performed at the conference, were apparently doing so. 

The rest were either commanded to "saddown" or could be summed up in one person's dry tweet: "I could've had a V-8".

Public opinions and statements about what people wore, who they were with, what they were overheard saying, AWAY from the conference, got tagged as well. 

At an awards event, accolades were given in categories that let me FURTHER know that SOMEONE could have been assigned to internet duty. 

Had ANYONE, or a group of conscientious people been able to provide a counterpoint to all of the silliness, a balance may have been achieved that would have indicated, to those who couldn't attend, that the conference actually DID have a purpose that deserved serious consideration. 

I've seen how numerous organizations use the internet during events to direct the flow of information, and ensure that their primary message is communicated. 

To my surprise, the organization's OWN page at twitter.com hadn't been manned since last year. 

Its Facebook page seemed a bit lethargic as well.

Perhaps the burden I felt, stems from my great appreciation for gospel music, and mostly from my distaste for cruelty, teasing, and un-constructive criticism. 

I thought about the saying, "I love your Christ, but not your Christians". 

As I searched each day for even the tiniest redeeming message, I thought, "I love the music, but not the industry. 

If THESE are the wheels that are moving the vehicle, no wonder there is an overwhelmingly negative perception. 

Perhaps there should be an inquiry into the reason why some don't wish to attend. 

A revival might be in order, but who could spearhead it? HOW can an entity survive when even KEY players delight in making it appear shady, childish, cliquish, questionable, secular, disorganized, mediocre, ruthless, and lacking integrity? 

Where was even an ounce of information, that may have helped music ministries at the local church level? 

Why so much deliberate clowning? 

Have we forgotten the great crowd of witnesses has been enlarged exponentially because of a little thing called the world wide web?

I was increasingly embarrassed each day as I searched for at least one shred of social networking from the conference that was intelligent and informative. 

I'm sure it would have been a different experience actually being in attendance. 

Why did I think that social networking could have been the next best thing? 

Probably because it's been done, and done well.

I wondered what could be done to improve the reputation of an organization, whose own statement of purpose holds so much promise. 

I hope that someone who hoped to "matriculate" actually learned something other than what not to wear. 

Not even some of those who actually DO what prompted the organization to be founded in the first place, gave thought to the impact of the words they posted. 

People working behind the scenes-- musicians, singers, pastors, radio announcers, bloggers, and industry professionals joined in the collective, public free-for-all to bash one event, group, or individual after another, and they did it with glee.

Other organizations have successfully utilized social networking during their conferences to provide pertinent information, increase attendance, inspire interest, and educate the general public. 

If I didn't know first hand what this conference was, and if I based my evaluation of it solely on the social networking that took place as it occurred, I would have to conclude that it was a week-long, poorly amplified, musical, comedy camp for the fashion challenged groupie. 

Hashtag after hashtag either bemoaned the hour, lamented about food, ridiculed clothing and accessories, mocked ministers, artists and emcees, critiqued singers, or provided links to camera phone images of some unfortunate person at whose expense, anyone online could get a free laugh.

I couldn't imagine why no one considered the damage they were doing each time they carelessly affixed the organization's acronym to their postings. Why travel all the way to a place, spend money, and then systematically and publicly tear it down? 

I thought I had spotted one timeline that might be positively and constructively informative, only to learn more about someone's foot pain than I cared to know.
It seemed that everyone was allergic to sharing helpful information that would cause a novice to take a serious look at the organization and plan to attend. I did find a consistent, favorable reference to one group, but very little else that indicated that people were there for any other reason than to be seen, and have a front row seat to ridicule everything they could find.
I want so badly to address someone in leadership and implore them to take a sober look at the power of social networking. If there is anything of worth going on-- if someone is saying something that others need to hear-- people should share it. Unfortunately, the only people sharing THIS year were those who had foolishness on their minds, nothing worthwhile to say, and the technology with which to say it.

It is a terrible thing when people delight in bashing and harming their own interests. It's worse when there is little thought to the fact that people are watching and reading. If one's organization is not taken seriously or viewed with disdain it is pitiful when the culprits responsible comprise its membership.
I would be very sad to find out that there was a workshop focused on the efficient use of the internet, and no one used what they learned to refocus attention on the true intent of the gathering and the constructive things that, I'm sure, occurred.

An opportunity was lost this year to put a fresh face on an old organization via the most efficient and effective internet networking tools to date. Instead it was rendered a laughingstock by those who had access to the tools, but not the maturity to use them constructively.

I admit, I've been bothered by what I've witnessed. 

I concluded that I don't know why some people are involved with the gospel music industry at all. Is it just to make a name for oneself? What we say carries a lot of weight. What we write on the internet remains trapped in the web like a fly--not to be rescued and set free, but to be picked apart, used, and reduced to waste. 

There's a carelessness and a callousness going on, by people who own Bibles, that is extremely disturbing. One of the worse things in the world is to provide the ammunition that leads to your own demise. 

There's a lot of enthusiastic talk about "kingdom" and "kingdom work", but if it has been stripped of the righteousness required to make the work meaningful, credible, and pleasing to God, WHOSE kingdom are people actually "blazing" and "crushing" for?

Someone once had a good idea to bring gifted and talented people together to discuss, create, promote, cultivate global interest in, and celebrate a popular genre of American music. No doubt they attracted those who admired, appreciated and even coveted their ability and sought to learn from them. I wonder what they would think of their idea today?
The usual response to a rant is, "lighten up". 

Perhaps my take on it all is too sober. Maybe I should lighten up, but I doubt that I will. I did stop reading though. Even after the conference was over, the craziness continued.
I can't help but wonder, though, if I'm alone in the way I feel. So, I read 1 Kings 19, again, in order to remind myself that everyone is not losing their minds, forgetting who they represent, laying aside their integrity, putting on a show, or going along with the program. There are still those who are concerned about encouraging others and sharing the love of Christ. There are still those who are not ashamed of their relationship with God, or frightened into conformity by people's attempts at reverse psychology to diminish the degree to which they acknowledge their faith. 

Whether it's "too deep" or the position of one who is "super saved", there is a non-negotiable standard.

 

Social networking is a fantastic tool. 

I'm just not sure how "real" some people realize they're "keeping it" as they expose themselves in the name of harmless fun, yet fail to seize opportunities to share information that might actually be of value.

GOOD ENGLISH: WHO'S TO BLAME WHEN SUBJECTS AND VERBS DON'T AGREE?

My teachers always said, "Know when to turn it on, and when to turn it off". 
Mind you, their first hand experiences at discrimination was the fuel behind their warning. They were fearful that their Black students would have difficulty being accepted in certain circles. They felt that a firm grasp of the language was the ticket to a seat in predominately white arenas. All White people, we were led to believe, spoke properly. If we were to ever successfully communicate with them, we had to know their language--English. 
Funny. It was our language as well, but there was something about the way that intelligent Whites spoke that our teachers felt we should seek to emulate. They reminded us that it's perfectly fine to relax our speech if in the company of friends, but when it was time to stand before a group and recite a poem, debate, or give a speech, nothing less that proper English would do. Their efforts at producing articulate students often resulted in the incessant accusations of "trying to sound white", as if speaking well is a trait reserved for White America alone.

I sensed that my teacher's advice may be a help, today, to young journalist, Lindsey Mastis, whose on-air error in grammar inspired a not-so-nice letter from a viewer. In the letter, the viewer took swipes at Lindsey, public schools, and public school teachers. Lindsey in turn lamented that people still hold fast to the "private school is better" stereotype. I felt bad for her, and thought about the worth of what the viewer wrote. I suppose our viewpoints are primarily based on our experiences. I can unfortunately see how the viewer arrived at his or her conclusions, although they were a bit unfair to Miss Mastis.

Mastering language is not a black/white/public school/private school issue. It's a communications issue. If one is to master a thing there has to be a good example to emulate. One must see and hear how something is done, and be able to distinguish when it is done well. 
A commentator's errors will ALWAYS stick out like a sore thumb, and cause attentive people to question the credentials of their English, Grammar, Composition, and Speech instructors. 
Many people are intently listening those in the media. There is a rhythm and flow in the voice of a news person that is violently interrupted when an error in speech or grammar is made. Oh sure. It's acceptable if the error is made by a gardener, plumber, stand-up comedian, street corner philosopher or gas station mechanic, but not a preacher, teacher, or commentator. When YOU, news reporter, make an error, IT becomes the story, as opposed to the incident about which you were reporting. Why? You're supposed to know better. You're PAID to TALK, not to entertain or casually chat. 

Some people just expect other people to be better at things than they are. No. They expect them to be EXPERTS, and often delight in pointing out mistakes (thereby secretly rendering themselves more qualified for the job than the person who holds it). As unwilling as some may be to accept the title, they a role models.

As bizarre as English can be-- as contradictory and confusing as it's rules are, if you made it all the way through school and have not mastered the basics of your own native language, the fault lies in many places-- and your teachers have to bear a part of it. I don't totally agree with the tone of the letter Miss Mastis was sent, but as I listen to the speech of court television plaintiffs and defendants, talk show guests, conference panelists, elected officials, athletes, and young people I know who attend private OR public school, I must confess, I, too wonder sometimes if ANYONE is still teaching English Grammar and Composition, Principles of Speech, and emphasizing the importance of effective communication. 
The rule of putting one's best foot forward has given way to just sharing the information. Do we no longer care how we spell, write or speak? 
News reporters endeavor to be the viewer's family and friends, and along with that cozy atmosphere comes a relaxed attitude toward communication. If it's just a matter of carelessness, that can be fixed. One problem is that we don't always listen to ourselves, or think before we speak. Another is that we try so hard to be deep and profound that we end up appearing ignorant. Yet another problem is the notion that no one cares. Of course, some people expect those who are paid to communicate to be more adept and precise at speaking, reading and writing, but that's not always the case. 
Often the emphasis is on whether or not one has made his or her point, and the detail of whether subjects and verbs agree is a minor one.

I taught at a public school for 16 years. I'm a mom. I used to be a child. I know. Children learn what they live. If what they live, in word or deed, is chronically incorrect, and is then repeated daily at school, how will they ever learn unless they are self-motivated? The proof of what is or is not being emphasized in school is in the performance of the student once away from school. When one knows better, one hopefully, does better.

I remember when my teachers would recommend that we listen to radio and television news reporters in order to perfect our speech and grammar. Listening to the news was often a homework assignment. I'm not so sure if teachers are suggesting that students listen to the news any longer. Grammar aside, the content and the way it's presented just isn't always suitable. Nevertheless, the assumption my teachers had was that, on the news, greater attention was paid to presenting "The King's English" and the use of slang was a definite no-no.

I attended public and parochial schools and I have to say, I now appreciate the no-nonsense, orderly atmosphere in which I learned, as well as the emphasis on principles of speech, English grammar and composition, and Latin. I learned to read with Dick, Jane, Spot, Midnight, Dr. Seuss and the big Phonovisual chart. My teachers read to us daily, and did it well. There was a huge difference, not in the quality of teachers, but in the demand and expectation for an orderly environment in which to teach and learn. My daughter, however, attended DCPS from kindergarten through 12th grade (elementary school east of the river) and is now a senior at Georgetown Law School. My requirements for her behavior in school afforded her teachers to give her their best. She knew, because I told her, that she was aiming to attain a level of academic excellence that her teachers already possessed. It's true. Students can only be as knowledgeable as the individual teaching them. Schools can only be as effective as they are allowed to be. We all could have probably learned a lot more had our teachers at any point along our educational journey not had to deal with all kinds of intrusions--social, financial, disciplinary, theoretical-- that hindered their ability to teach.

Too many parents leave the education of their children entirely up to the school. They forget the importance of reinforcing what their children have learned, and then wonder why very little of what their children experience at school is retained. Education has always been important in our family, so the school was always considered an extension of home. I always knew that every teacher was a second mother or father because my parents said so. It wasn't my place to correct them. My job was to do what I was told. As for the viewer, if they KNEW that their child's teacher was deficient, and they continued to send their child to his or her class, they had a bigger problem than proper, or improper use of grammar. Parents must remember that they are their child's FIRST teacher. One may not personally have the educational expertise to spot teacher errors and correct what their child is learning, but there are many available ways to find out.

We all make mistakes when we speak. The difference is whether or not we're aware of them and know how to, or care to make the necessary correction. When you know that people are hanging on your every word, whether to gain information, or perfect their own speech, you have the authority to do better. The responsibility for one's own ability to communicate effectively lies with each individual. ALL schools in America should aim to graduate students who have mastered the English language, and have at least offered an introduction to the mastery of other languages-- no matter what field of work the students eventually pursue.

Miss Mastis' intent to be, and do better in her chosen profession, and her sensitivity is admirable. I could think of worse things than a journalist who is a poor communicator, it just seems a little out of order, though. Whatever your profession, you should be an expert at the essentials of it.

Miss Mastis now knows not to use "had fell" and will probably hear "had fallen" in her sleep. Like the kid who never forgets the word they misspelled in the spelling bee, she will never forget the rule, nor will she confuse "had went" with "had gone". (Sorry. So, so sorry. I can't help it. My late mother was an English teacher.) The letter Miss Mastis received inspired her to think about the reasons why she became a journalist. For that reason alone, poor argument aside, the letter was sent to the right address.

Here's a link to the delightful Lindsey Mastis' blog. All the best to her. http://lindseymastis.com/2010/07/no-need-to-diss-my-public-school/

CONSIDER WHAT YOU DO REGULARLY AND FOR PROFIT

I was recently asked to use my "influence" to secure the services of a talented friend. I wasn't aware I had any “influence”.

My friend has a business manager, and I referred the inquiring person to him. Apparently the business manager's reply, though polite, was not satisfactory. 

In order to achieve the goal, I was told, "a little red tape needs to be removed", and cost lowered considerably, however, my friend's services were still desired. 
"Can you just ask him yourself and see if he will do it?" 

I wondered why the person didn't just say that the first time. 

I sensed that they expected me to say, "Sure! I'll ask him. He'll do it for me!", but I replied that, in a business transaction, entities are in place to protect the interests of all parties involved. 

Friendship was not the issue, nor would I assist someone else in devaluing the work of a friend. 

Why is it so easy for people to seek and expect discounts when it comes to certain professional services, and not others? If a fee is in place, there's a reason, and that fee should be honored unless a decision is made to forgo it.

It was clear that the person sought me out in order to get a hook up. 

The strength of my friendships do not depend on whether or not I can convince my friends to do what I want, or do a favor for someone else. 

I have to admit I was a little miffed by the poor attempt at reverse psychology. 

Between the lines I read, "If you're REALLY a friend you can just ask him, and he will do it". That may very well be true, but I love my friend. I highly value his life's work. Frankly, whatever the fee was, I don't think it's high enough, considering, among other things, the excellent quality of his work. Further, I would never ask him to do anything for ME for less that what his services are worth. What would make a stranger think that he was so special?

WHY do people think it's okay to enrich themselves or their program with the services of others, but complain about the worth of the services they seek?

Consider what you do regularly and for profit. 

Consider your salary. 

Now consider someone asking you to work for a fraction of it--or for free, but the hours and amount of work remain the same.

Consider what you do regularly, and for profit. 

Now consider someone coming to your workplace and telling you that your salary is too high, and asking you if you would reduce it so that they can afford to use your services in a venture in which THEY will surely make a profit.

Consider what you do regularly and for profit. 

Now consider your boss coming to you on payday and offering you a piece of sheet cake, some chicken wings on a paper plate, and a cup of fruit punch and saying, "Thank you".

Consider what you do regularly and for profit. 

If you value the work that YOU do, and believe that the salary you receive is due, why expect others to labor for a fraction of what they are worth--or for nothing at all?

Consider what you do regularly and for profit, and remember it every time you seek the services of another professional--especially when it's time to compensate them. 

Yes. There is a time for charity. Certainly. There is a time to volunteer. When it comes to someone's livelihood however, we often forget that it took countless hours of study, practice, money, and sacrifice and is worth every penny to benefit from it-- and then some. 

Perhaps the seeming ease with which some tasks are done cause us to view them as mere hobbies. Perhaps we think that people should be glad to entertain us with their talents, especially when their talent is in abundance. 

When our perceptions prove false and users CAN'T get something for nothing, they’re ready to bash, criticize, and destroy the reputations of the very people they so desperately seek. 

They get angry when people wake up and realize that what they have to offer is valuable, and can sustain their lives and the lives of their families. 

People have the nerve to get mad when other people realize it, too, and willingly pay out of their appreciation for the work. 

People get mad, and trot out the itinerary for the religious guilt trip when they can't get what they want. 

"Oh they're not all that!" 

Then why did you want them so badly? 

“Whatever happened to ministry?" 

Funny. Ministry never came up in the committee meeting when the question of "who could secure the biggest crowd" was on the table. "Whatever happened to 'freely receive, freely give?" No. Whatever happened to treating people the way YOU would want to be treated? 

Obviously, some people read, "Do unto others" and then closed the book.

Consider what you do regularly and for profit, and consider that other professionals have done the same. If you can't afford what you want, or think the cost is unreasonable, there are always options. 

Either save until you can afford it, or seek the services of someone else, but don't attempt to undercut another person, or demean them or their work. 

Remember. There is a reason why you sought them in the first place. They ARE good, and CAN get the job done. 

No one should have to apologize for being efficient, effective and excellent. Some people actually appreciate those qualities. 

Rest assured, what you won't or can't pay for, someone else will do so gladly.

ON THE ROAD TO "THERE"

There are so many people who only see you and your ability as a means to an end. Your talents are valuable in the eyes of others--and they may see them even when you don't. The thing that you view as a mere hobby, or means of relaxation or enjoyment causes some people to see dollar signs, and sends them to a drawing board to concoct their plan for your life--and the aim to make sure that you are forever beholden to them. 
It is amazing the number of people who are supposedly critical players in order for you to get "there". Some people have a way of making themselves and their services mandatory for your survival, when they aren't. It's important to know better. It's important to know whether "there" is where you want to be.

Too often, the plans of others ignore the fact that you are a human being, not a machine. Your services may be promised in situations where you have no intention of going. Your presence is arranged without your consent. Your words and actions are no longer your own, and you find yourself daily reading from someone else's carefully crafted script. Be leery of those who are always stressing what you HAVE to do because it is a part of "the territory". Beware of those who have no regard for your health, family, time, beliefs, or standards. One of the worst things in the world is to see someone abandon something that they once loved because they allowed someone else to turn it into a stress-inducing chore. If you're going to burn-out, let it be your idea.

Don't let ANYONE scam you into thinking that you need their assistance in order to succeed at that which you are already capable and skilled. Everyone's "help" is not intended to assist or promote YOU, but to further their own interests in an area they seek to infiltrate and establish themselves as a key player. Sometimes, people need you considerably more than you need them, and your inclination to be trusting will not allow you to see it until it is too late. Everyone who talks a good game is neither competent nor credible. Don't let ambition blind you to people who have an agenda upon which you are a temporary item. Some people who approach you with grand ideas don't have your best interest at heart, but a self-serving business plan. They're quick with comments to make you feel you don't have what it takes to be successful the minute you acknowledge that you DO have limitations.

Don't be surprised when you finally see through the motives of others and find that you were always considered dispensable. Don't be surprised to find that the reputation you thought you had has been amended with negative descriptions. Don't be surprised when those, who once had great plans to improve your lot in life, are just as eager to silence or destroy you. Secretly coveting the skills and talents of others cause some to seek to control, manipulate and mishandle those who actually possess them. Your refusal to go along with the plans and schemes of others may cause you to walk alone for a spell. It's okay. You may hear things about yourself that you don't recognize. You may find out that you were overlooked or missed out on opportunities because you refused to play people's games. It's okay. You don't have to fight back or retaliate. When people hang their success on your compliance and you don't comply, their true colors begin to show. When people don't get what they anticipated out of your effort, they aren't going to be happy, and will seek to make you even unhappier. They may even seek to shut you down altogether. Beware of those whose opinions and ideas are unwise, and whose assistance is self-serving.

Truth and justice have a wonderful way of showing up and shining a revealing light on every situation. Don't underestimate God's ability to use what people have devised to destroy you, as a firm platform to carry out his carefully made plans for your life. Un-forgiveness and bitterness, though seemingly justified, are never an option. Keep doing good. Keep working as if only for the approval of God. Keep improving. Keep the joy in what you do. Rest assured, you will be wherever you are intended to be, doing what you are intended to do--efficiently and successfully--if you remember your true source and always give Him the well-deserved credit. Remember God's promises; His truth, and always be true to yourself. Hard work does pay off, but at least one of the people who should benefit from your effort is you.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: POETRY PROMPT----NEW SLAVERY

They lower their eyes

When their master walks by

Jump and clap when he enters the room

When the master says, "Come"

They take off and run

For fear master will lower the boom

They'll forget the needs

Of their own families

Their own households are going without

Their last dime they will give

Till they've no where to live

But secure, is their master's big house

It's misplaced loyalty

That is so hard to see

Especially among thinking men

How a People oppressed

Could now be in this mess

Except this time

"The boss" looks like them

Under guise of religion

With Bible to back it

A new slave is born; 

A new work

Now the gullible think

That the church-work they do

Now eclipses the work of The Church

They are polishing cars

And laying out clothes

And driving, and cooking, and washing

They are grocery shopping

Sweeping and mopping

Repairing, and yard work, and ironing

They are standing on guard

Wiping sweaty brows

Tying shoes, fixing ties, pouring water

And the master's bad kids 

Get more face time from them

Than their own neglected sons and daughters

It's one thing to say, "I appreciate"

It's another to spend one's whole life

Acting like it’s okay

To be a new slave with two masters

And thinking it’s right

From the mouth of the slave

One won't hear, "God said___"

It's always what master says do

If they'd ever just once

Crack a Bible and read it

Their freedom they'd surely pursue

But, until then

In houses across the land

The new slave can be found, near and far

If they'd do a bit more

Dance and shuffle galore

Maybe they, too, might get a new car--

Or a house, or a boat, or a plane

Or more money, more jewelry

A husband or wife

Or just their name mentioned

A little a attention

From master would be very nice

When you enter a house

You know whose it is

No matter whose name's on the door

And today, shrines to men

Masquerading as churches of God

Are like never before

Service is one thing

Slavery's another

Has the need to be praised gone too far?

It’s time to recall

God's no respecter of persons

But we members, certainly are

Are there new slave masters

That some might call "Pastor"

"Apostle", or "Bishop" or "Elder"?

How will you know?

Just watch how things flow

The next time you see one—

If seldom

Will there ever be

Less than twenty-three

Grinning, groveling, and bowing sheeple

Acting as if they forgot

They're supposed to be fed

And worshiping Jesus--not people,

Then you've found the plantation

That looks like a church

Get your keys, coat, and Bible, and run!

Search 'til you find a place

Where Jesus is praised

'Cause a slave is a slave

There just ain't no two ways

And slavery ain't never been fun.

Search 'till shackles are gone

And imposed binds are loosed

Know-- not all leaders oppress

Some do lead

And never, ever forget

The Son has set you free

And, forever, you are free indeed

That God is your portion

He is your provider

It is upon Him you depend

It is Him, and Him alone

That you serve

Perhaps, you forgot that

But never again.

VRWc2010

MONDAY THOUGHTS: "IT'S A TWISTER! IT'S A TWISTER!"

After church yesterday, my daughter said, "We're going to Jerry's". 

Having no plans, I said, "Okay", and off we went.

 
When we neared the Jerry's Pizza and Subs shop, I admit I was a little disappointed, but I generally trust my daughter's dining selections. 

When we passed the Jerry's and kept driving, I wondered if she had seen it. 

We got a little turned around and ended up back where we started. 

There was the sub shop again, coming up on my right. 

When she kept driving, I finally asked, "Is there another Jerry's?" 

I soon found out that there was. The home of the "crab bomb".

 
It was a quaint place, so unassuming, nestled in a strip mall. 

After she parked and we got out, I asked her if she thought she should leave the car windows open a crack, since it was so hot outside. 

She got back inside, lowered the driver side and passenger side windows, and we walked the short distance to the restaurant. 

It wasn't very crowded, and we were seated immediately. 

A very nice waitress took our drink orders and we looked at the menu. 

I love seafood, so it's never hard to decide what to eat. 

There was cream of crab soup and crab bisque, so we decided to get both and sample them. 

I ordered fish, she ordered the "crab bomb". 

Even the steak fries were well cooked, and the honey lemon dressing on my salad was delicious.

It was impossible to eat it all, so we asked for carry out trays, and considered desert. 

The room seemed to get a little darker, and we looked out of the windows and noticed the trees were swaying violently, and the wind was swirling on the parking lot. 

Thinking that it may begin to rain, I asked Lisa if she wanted to go and put the windows up. 

She said that maybe we should think about going altogether. 

Then the rain began to fall right, left and sideways. The lights went out in the restaurant, then came back on. 

Suddenly a ceiling tile fell to the floor and startled everyone. 

The lights continued to flicker off and on until they finally stayed off. 

The storm just seemed to come out of nowhere, but I felt so calm and peaceful just sitting there. 

We'd enjoyed our meal, and sat there watching the restaurant staff scrambling to make sure that everyone was okay. 

With the power out, they were concerned that some customers meals wouldn't be cooked properly. Everyone just seemed content to just wait it out. 

The staff brought candles to everyone's tables, took desert orders, and opened the front door to let in some cool air. 

I wondered if it was a hurricane or a tornado, but wasn't the least bit frazzled or worried. 

Every time there was the slightest noise, a woman across the room would shriek, "Ooh Jesus!". 

If you have to be stuck anywhere in a storm, it's nice to be with praying people, I suppose.

Neither Lisa, nor I had listened to the news or weather report before we left home. 

On the way to church we listened to Garrison Keillor's "A Prairie Home Companion" like we always do. 
The storm seemed to catch everyone in the restaurant by surprise. 

We decided to get some chocolate cake and lemon pound cake to go.

 
Just as quickly as the storm came, it went. 

The rains subsided, and we decided to head home. Once outside I realized we should have all been screaming and stressed out, not calmly sipping coke and ginger ale, and nibbling on crab balls or shrimp. As we drove we noticed tree branches strewn all over the streets. 

I could only imagine how badly it had been for someone in my neighborhood when the storm arose, because they dropped their entire McDonald's, super-sized, Angus burger meal right at our gate. 

There was trash all along the sidewalk. 

The usual river that runs down South Capitol Street near Oxon Run Park when there are heavy rains, however, was, fortunately, non-existent.

We decided to go inside, put away our food, grab cleaning supplies and go back outside to pick up the mess and trash.
The rains cooled the atmosphere, but it was still warm outside. Nothing I was doing was particularly strenuous, but it was my own sweat, not the rain, that soaked me as we worked.

No sooner than we were inside, the sun began to shine. I looked out, and it was as if nothing had happened at all. 

I suddenly felt like singing, 

"It really was no miracle, what happened was just this: The wind began to switch, the house to pitch..."

 
I turned on the news to see what we'd experienced. Was it a twister? 

"Severe" was an understatement concerning the storm. 

A woman was killed when a large tree fell on her car. A six year old child was also killed. 

Power was out in the homes of thousands of people. Traffic was jammed all over the area because of uprooted trees. 

Once again, an overwhelming sense of gratitude came over me. 

There we had been, just enjoying our meal, while a major storm affected our area. 

We got home and had suffered no loss of power. 

All of the trees were still standing. 

I can only imagine what it was like for people who were outside or driving when the storm hit. 

It's amazing when you see what you were protected from. 

It was quiet outside, and everything seemed brighter. I love it when nature cools and cleans the air...and washes the windows...and the car. 

The day was just confirmation that storms pass, and, even in the midst of violent and destructive situations, the best in people still shines through.

WAKING THOUGHTS

Today is a defining day for some, a rough day for others. It's wrought with activity for some and stillness for others. Some will hate to see it end, while others will be happy to see midnight, and tear the page with today's date out of every available calendar. No matter what, we're still here, and that in itself, no matter what the day holds is enough to muster a smile and some gratitude. We all have to remember we're not alone or without resources- even if it seems that way. It's so good to know that.
I woke up with a headache. That's unusual. It went away so quickly, though. There was so much in my heart to say. it just came pouring out as I typed. I'd left the laptop on the bed (wonder what Dr. Oz has to say about that?) and emptied my thoughts until they stopped.

Of course others will try to tear you down. The pity is when they're successful at it, in part, because you helped them.

Consider what God knows and who he is, and if you have to, re-think your plans for the day.

Remember who you represent, and do it with integrity so that looking at yourself in the mirror won't be a shame inducing activity.

"Just this one time" has often been, for some, the last time. Stay focused. Remember you DO have standards that are not negotiable.

Consider the strides you have made with the help of a merciful God. Don't be swayed by the subtle suggestions of one who hates him AND you.

Wherever you find yourself, positively affect the atmosphere- don't let it affect you. Perhaps you no longer fit in--and that's okay.

The landscape of seemingly great opportunities are often riddled with traps. Mischief loves company. Decline its invitation.

Someone despises the progress you've made. Stay focused wherever you are. Decline invitations that scream, "Regression anyone?".

The superficial always pales in comparison to the substantive, and tries in vain to assert it's newness as strength. There's a reason why some things never seem to grow old. Don't compete with, belittle, envy or attempt to replace them. Learn from them.

FRIDAY THOUGHTS: EARTHQUAKE?

The year 2010 has definitely been one of extremes. Extreme cold, 

extreme heat, 

extreme carelessness, 

extreme rhetoric, 

extreme disrespect, 

and fortunately, extreme mercy and grace. 

God isn't TRYING to tell us something. 

He's been speaking quite clearly and concisely. 

Question is, are we too preoccupied to listen?

I woke up to the news that there had been an earthquake in Maryland. 

The fact that I wasn't surprised, can be attributed to my recently seeing a statement, by someone in Houston, indicating their relief that earthquakes don't occur there. 

I was curious, so I checked. 

Just because earthquakes don't happen with frequency in a place, doesn't mean they can't or don't. Texas is not exempt, and neither is the Washington Metropolitan area.

The earth has every right to react. 

I suppose if you were drilled into, raked, paved, raped, polluted, poisoned and under pressure, you'd do a little shaking and shifting, too. 

From the news reports one would think that I would have felt something. 

I can't say that I did. I was sound asleep, enjoying one of my full-color dreams. 

Living in DC, I'm accustomed to hearing everything from exploding firecrackers, low flying helicopters, building and street construction (going on as I type), and heavy trucks. 

I'm near a Metro bus line, Bolling Air Force Base, and jets, headed to Washington Reagan, fly right over my neighborhood. 

Truth be told, the bass coming from my neighbor's sound system, sometimes, might deserve a minor Richter scale reading.

I was more shaken this morning by the news that one of the greatest voices in sacred music was dealing with blood clots in his lungs, and a friend's baby has to undergo surgery. 

Had I experienced the quake, I would have been the first to say so. 

I've never experienced an earthquake, and am not looking forward to that ever happening. 

I have a great love for stillness and stability in all of its forms, and thank God for allowing me to be asleep and far away from all of the activity.

If you don't live in Washington, you'd think it's a humongous place. 

You'd also think everything is a stone's throw from everything else. 

If something is happening near, DC, the media puts it squarely in the city, and that's a little deceptive. 

(I'm always annoyed when Ballou Senior High School, or even the White House is named whenever anything bad happens in SE.SW.) 

DC is DC, and then there's the surrounding area comprising Maryland and Virginia. 

When the media says "DC", relatives immediately think "OMG! It happened on her street! Is she okay?" 

Then they call, and I tell them it's Silver Spring, Rockville, Gaithersburg, Alexandria, Arlington, LaPlata, etc. 

Very few Maryland and Virginia towns are within walking distance to DC unless you live on the boundary line. 

Even when towns are hundreds of miles away, DC crops up in the discourse. 

I realize the media is trying to give a familiar vantage point, but sometimes places get bad press only because of their proximity to a tragic event. 

If it happened in Rockville, I wish reporters would say, "Rockville", and teach the viewers where Rockville is. 

Towns do have their own significance, apart from DC and its historical landmarks.

Still, the thought that the Earth did a little shaking so close by, is a sobering thought. 

I'm sure California residents are calling us wimps, the way upstate New York residents did when we were trudging through over 50 inches of snow this past February. 

Unfortunately, we only hear of significant quakes and those that occur in so-called unlikely places. 

Fact is, there's an earthquake somewhere on Earth almost every day. So much for "Oh, that doesn't happen here". 

Perhaps it would just be wise to be prepared--according to FEMA's guidelines, and more importantly, God's.

"...But what does it say? "The word is near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart,"that is, the word of faith we are proclaiming:That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved." 

~Romans 10:8-10

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands." 

~2 Corinthians 5:1

http://www.ready.gov/america/beinformed/earthquakes.html

AFTERNOON THOUGHTS

Truth and right don't require agreement, endorsement or support. They just exist right out in the open whether we choose to see or not.

My opinion doesn't matter. What I believe and think about a thing carries much less weight than what God knows. If you just have to be on a side, choose His.

One can't ever be so consumed with not offending one person, that one becomes totally offensive to everyone-- including oneself.

Happy endings are great, but life does have a sequel. One just has to decide if it's going to be a never ending love story or a painful, graphic horror flick.

MONDAY THOUGHTS: ONE OF THESE MORNINGS: Remembering Walter Hawkins

I'd had such a wonderful time yesterday. 

Worshiping, and having dinner in Waldorf with my daughter, and friends from Germany, had been so lovely. 

When I got home I was a little tired, but in a good mood. 
Even the soda spill, someone had allowed to dry up on the stairs, didn't bother me. I went inside, grabbed the 409 and some paper towels, and went back to the stairwell to clean it up. 

Ringing in my ears were my Mom's words, "If you see something that needs to be done, do it". 

When I finished, I decided to just shower and turn in early--but not before I checked my e-mail. 

I'd left my computer logged on, and immediately saw the Facebook post requesting prayer for the Hawkins Family and Love Center Church. 

My heart sank. 

Death is no stranger; it's coming just as surely as we are breathing (unless Jesus comes back first), but sometimes, you really do hope that certain people will always be somewhere around. Even if you only see them on occasion, you just don't expect the world to be without them. 

I found my daughter, and I suppose the look on my face prompted her to ask, "What's wrong?". 

With emotion, usually reserved for a close family member, I shared, "Walter Hawkins died." 

I began to cry, and she hugged me. I'm glad I was with someone who understood what his life's work meant to me, and how much I adored it, and respected him.

My mind traveled back to an April evening. 

There were a few people seated in the darkened Kennedy Center Concert Hall, as we went on stage to rehearse. Nolan Williams had arranged a Hawkins medley for the Sacred Sounds Concert. 

I'd learned, a few days prior, that I would be singing some of my favorite songs. I couldn't believe my ears when I was told I would be accompanied by The National Symphony Orchestra. 

"Going Up Yonder" was among the songs. It was the first song I'd ever sung in public in my life. I was a terrified 15 year old, who had only joined the youth choir because my mother insisted I find something to do at church. I had no aspirations to sing alone nor professionally, but in my heart, I wanted so badly to sing like Tramaine--even if only in the shower. 

I had never heard a voice so lovely and powerful. 

That day back in 1975, I was going to get my chance to sing the words she sang, but I had to be pushed.
Since 1975, and thanks to Richard Smallwood, my chance to actually meet Tramaine, and sing with the Hawkins family was realized. Bishop Hawkins—all of them— were always gracious and kind.

Thirty-five years later, I found myself standing on stage with some of the finest soloists and musicians in the Washington metropolitan area. 

Someone decided that the music of Walter Hawkins deserved to be honored at one of the most prestigious musical venues in the world. 

Someone decided that his songbook was a vital part of the fabric of American music. 

Someone thought it should be showcased in a place where excellence is the standard, and mediocrity has no seat. 

Someone thought that the nation's symphony orchestra should master Hawkins music, too. 

In addition to other Hawkins-penned tunes, I was going to, once again, sing "Going Up Yonder".  Unlike the first time, I had a sober grasp of pain, heartache, grace, and the priceless basis of my faith. 

Dennis, Larry, Lecresia, Francese, Duawne, and I assembled ourselves, and were given hand held mikes. As we faced the nearly empty seats of the concert hall, a man wearing a gleaming white shirt, waved. I waved back, not knowing who he was. 

We rehearsed the medley a few times, and I was suddenly transported back to the choir stand of Bethlehem Baptist Church. 

After we were done, we went to greet the man who’d waved at us. It was Bishop Hawkins. He took both of my hands and smiled at me. As I hugged him, I realized how fragile he was. I didn't know that he had been ill. His eyes sparkled, and he smiled. I felt like a little kid. I was just so overwhelmed to see him, and blown away when he told me I had done well. Just the opportunity to speak with him and hear his words of affirmation, made me cry. 

When someone has made such a significant impact on your life, there's a part of you that longs to let them know. I'm glad I had the chance, as bungling and incoherent as it may have been. It's amazing how all of the words you thought you would say are suddenly reduced to a big bowl of tears, admiration and gratitude. 

At the performance, it was clear that cancer hadn't stolen his spectacular voice. His dignity and strength were positively breathtaking.

Last night I watched youtube videos of vintage Hawkins performances. 

I talked to friends who were feeling the loss, but celebrating the incredible gift to world music that is the Hawkins Family. 

I smiled, cried, shook my head, and heaved heavy sighs until I fell asleep. 

I talked to my big sister, who is probably the only person I know who loves the music more than I do. She wanted to make sure that what she heard wasn't some horrible hoax. (People do have a way of announcing funerals these days when there's no body to mourn.) I wish it had been a hoax. 

The sobering truth is that years ago, as we clapped, rocked, and hummed along, Bishop Hawkins sang fearlessly, and with authority, of a day in June 2010. He told us, "One of these mornings, it won't be very long, you're gonna look for me and I'll be gone...I'm going away...".

This morning, I put aside everything I was doing and listened to the continuous offering of Walter Hawkins' music that was wisely and fittingly provided by radio host, Gerard Bonner. 

"I'm Going Away" 

"Right On", 

"Marvelous", 

"I Won't be Satisfied", "Changed", 

“He's That Kind of Friend", "Wonderful", 

“Thank You"...

Each song brought back so many delightful memories. Each song testified of a confident soldier who didn't just sing songs, but sought to inspire others to believe.

 

The broadcast soundly arrested my morning. 
The earlier songs reminded me of the day my Dad came down to the basement to investigate what we were listening to. We couldn't listen to "that rock and roll" on Sundays. We must have had the volume up too loudly, and appeared to be having way too much fun to be listening to the mandated Mahalia Jackson or Sister Rosetta Tharpe albums that, for years, served as Sunday fare.

 

"Love Alive" brought new life to the turntable. "It's Jesus music, Daddy! See? Listen!" 

After the music passed his test, it was freed from its Sunday-only prison, and brought light to the rest of the week from then until this present day.

I listened to each track, keenly aware that I knew every lyric and ad lib. 

I don't remember enjoying listening to the radio so much in years. 

It's official. I adore good music. The genre doesn't matter, but when one tags the name of Jesus onto a thing, or declares that it's "gospel" it just ought to have the tell tale signs that there's a relationship with God at the foundation it all. There just ought to be some sign of God and his word that oozes from the lyrics and instrumentation. At a time when the preoccupation seems to be more with charts, numbers, fame, showmanship, fashion, and awards, than encouraging souls, it is more than a relief to be able to listen to music that, at its core, is the redemptive message of Jesus Christ. 

My thoughts, as I listened, only confirmed what I already knew. Walter Hawkins was one of the most articulate and compelling singers ever. His were crisp and convincing vocals, fortified by the Word of God. His are songs of incredible substance and power, replete with excellent musicianship, passion, brilliance, hope, joy and glorious harmonies. 

Good music never grows old. 

Some master the making of noise and trite lyrics that fall flat, and move a listener to do little more than yawn. Others inspire priceless memories, and stir the heart. 

I thought about Quincy Jones' tune, "What Good is A Song". 

Listening to the music of Walter Hawkins, so adequately answers the question, and in my opinion agrees: 

"If a song cannot take you higher, then it's not good enough to sing". 

Competence and excellence ought to be the standard. Sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ ought to be the motivation.

It's raining now. Thundering, too. 

I opened the window to smell the clean air. The sounds that nature makes are glorious. The sounds that we make, and attribute to our relationships with God should be no less. 

Thank you, Hawkins Family for sharing your talents with the world. I am so grateful to have been touched by the life and outstanding musical legacy of Bishop Walter L. Hawkins.