MORGAN'S MOMENT...
I paused by my recycle box
    before dumping a bundle of old notes…
    from sermons I’ve long forgotten.
Jean knows my reluctance
    to part with those old things
    but it’s long needed doing.
Why my reluctance I ask myself?
    why the feeling that what’s being dumped
    is part of me?
I skim a few crinkled pages
    marveling that those ideas
    once came from me.
Ideas have their own lives
    sometimes giving birth
    to insights in other minds.
My commitment has been to share…
    to give away ideas…
    let them have their own journey.
Of course I’ll never know 
    what became of those ideas
    if they took hold or not.
Recycling gives my papers a second life…
    something I can only hope
    for some of the thoughts on their pages.
— Art Morgan 
BOOK CORNER
We are currently working on “Benjamin Franklin,” by Edmond S. Morgan. Edmond isn’t a relative as far as I know, but he writes well. Of course, Franklin is an interesting subject.
Morgan says that his most conspicuous virtue was his insatiable curiosity. He lived his life in perpetual wonder. He had the soul of the scientist that he was.
Morgan says of Franklin:
He was concerned not with property or class interests, but with the common welfare; and in his quick sympathy for all sorts and conditions of men, in his conviction that he must use his talents to make this world better and not exploit it, he reveals the breadth and generosity of his nature.
Franklin spent a third of his life as an Embassador to both England and France. As recent news reports come in, some might wish for his charming political skills once again.
MOMENT MINISTRIES
Mar.17, 2003
home address:  25921 SW Airport Ave.
Corvallis, OR 97333   541-753-3942
email at  a-morgan@peak.org
WRITING ON THE BRINK
It’s time for me to go to the printer, news or not. My latest update was Colin Powell’s press conference after the final end of the UN diplomatic process.
The blue sheet is not driven by politics, but I can’t help writing what’s in my head and heart on whichever morning I write. You (nor I) never know quite what to expect.
I try to avoid political commentary. Most clergy look and sound a bit nutty when making wise pronouncements. Some of us may read more than others, but for the most part we don’t know more than what anyone who really cares can glean from various news sources. Besides, to declare a political stance rarely moves anyone. It just makes a lot of people mad.
On the other hand, there are some rather long- standing ideas in the biblical heritage in which I have been trained that might inform present thinking. These often intrude a level of thought and feeling that gets left out in the rush of nationalism and political correctness.
So, if an idea occurs (like during Sunday afternoon’s concert) I allow it to overflow. What you don’t know (until now) is that I often have several such ideas that turn into back pages that are not selected. There’s only room for one. (Alas)
I would like to have done a page on another piece from that concert: Rene Clausen’s Peace I Leave With You. Part of the text goes: 
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid
Comforting words when on the brink. I would probably have written to the effect that there is something missing in our souls when we go into war without greatly troubled hearts. What kind of human can be at peace in a time of war?
I will be interested to see what is in my mind and soul the next time we meet.
  
  
EASTER 2003
at Inavale Farm
April 20 at 10a.m.

(back page)

 
LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAH
O you people who pass this way, look and see if there exists any sorrow, like unto my sorrow.
         I was sitting in a dim-lit auditorium on a Sunday afternoon. It was a concert, Mozart and More. We had passed beyond Mozart into a piece by Randall Stroope called Lamentations of Jeremiah.
         I was fighting sleep, but the combined choir was powerful enough to hold me upright. I read the English translation as it sang. I woke up to the words, …see if there exists any sorrows.
         Like many people, in this week that seems destined to launch a long-intended move against Iraq, war was on my mind. I listen to all the representatives of my nation that make the arguments about the necessity for war. Something is missing. Maybe more than one something. But one something I miss is the existence of sorrow.
         Maybe there should be some gladness about such a noble enterprise. We are told that war will be welcomed by many in Iraq. Even the stock market is supposed to rise upon news of attack. By the time you read this we may know.
         Some must surely face great sorrow. It is the way of war. Even of “good” wars or “just” wars. There is always sorrow.
         Maybe it is too much to expect that those who go into war go with sorrow.
         I sat there in the dark and tried not to cry. I remember the President claiming that he could go to bed at 10 p.m. and sleep like a baby. Colin Powell said that he also went to bed and slept like a baby…waking up every two hours crying. I suppose that crying is not the proper attitude for waging war. On the other hand, is there anything more proper?
         There’s plenty to lament. Those Americans in the Persian Gulf and in many other places around the world are our relatives, friends and neighbors. They are sworn to duty in a cause they did not devise. They are our bravest and best. We hate to see them at risk. We feel sorrow for their families who live in anguish for those they love. We wish it were not necessary.
         It doesn’t take a great leap to lament the situation of Iraqi’s, or any of the ordinary people who tremble in fear of bombs bursting in air. Their fear and the terror of those who become refugees by the 100’s of 1000’s is a horror beyond imagining. 
         If nothing else we should lament the expense of war. We spend years without finding funding for low-income health care, for instance, but can commit billions of dollars within 2 days for war. 
         See if there exists any sorrow.
         There are those who understand what’s likely to be coming. UNESCO, Church World Service, Doctors Without Borders, Northwest Medical Team—to name a few—are ready to head in with food and medicine and compassionate care. Our government promises care as well, but if Afghanistan is an example, it will not be enough. We are already donating to make up the difference.
         My main point—if preachers ever have a main point—is that it is not good for people to go into war without sorrow. It’s an awful thing to do, whatever the necessity may be. It is shameful to see leaders or citizens, like racehorses in the starting gates, eager to get going. Meanwhile, in the stands, the citizenry lines up to place bets, buy hot dogs and beer, laugh and spend and wait for the news that they’re off! before turning attention to the TV monitors or radio announcers to tell us how it’s all going.
         See if there exists any sorrow like unto my sorrow. Don’t go to war without it.
Art Morgan, March 17, 2003