MORGAN'S MOMENT...
“Would you vote for a Mormon?”
The talk show host was trying to stir up
     some controversy.
One caller said he couldn’t vote
      for anyone who believed
      the Book of Mormon came
      on golden tablets.
I presumed the caller had no problem
      with Moses coming off the mountain
      with the 10 commandments
      carved in stone.
I wondered whether he thought
      a Mormon president’s faith
      would be followed more
      than some other president’s faith.
We’ve seen how true believers lead
      and frankly it might be refreshing
      to try another religion.
If having a religious president
      means more bullying and warfare
      and further isolating of my country
      from the rest of the world
      and inability to respect others…
Maybe we’d be better off insisting
       on a Mennonite President
       who would stand for peace
       and unconditional forgiveness.
I don’t know what you think
       of the above words
       but my granddad would have
       liked them very much.
— Art Morgan 

BOOK CORNER
Just finished “The Unheard – A Memoir of deafness and Africa” by Josh Swiller.
Purely a coincidence that I write just after returning from a hearing test (I flunked). Josh took his hearing disability to a remote village in Zambia. The story is partly about his deafness and partly about his work for the Peace Corps. The reader will learn about both.
•
MOMENT MINISTRIES
December 10, 2007
home address:  25921 SW Airport Ave.
Corvallis, OR 97333   541-753-3942
email at a-morgan@peak.org
Homeless in Corvallis…
I was checking in with our group at the opening of our Advent Sunday Brunch, which, by the way was definitely a full house event. One of our largest. Stan Van De Wetering talked about doing a night at the homeless shelter and Barbara Ross filled us in on some of the details of the project this winter.
While we are it, I checked in with Lupe and Bardon Maginnis who work in the food program in Philomath. As in other places, there is more demand this year and less food.
It occurred to me that I should have asked Alice Glass to report on homeless pets that fill the human society kennels this time of the year.  Let’s not forget any of these homeless and needy.

WHERE’S SANTA CLAUS WHEN WE NEED HIM?
My country (and yours too I presume) has the distinction of being the only one in the world not to endorse the Kyoto Treaty on global warming. The arguments against, as I get it from news bites and other reading is that 1) The administration wants to wait for better science, and 2) The U.S. doesn’t want corrective action to be mandated. (The other language used is that the U.S. believes in voluntary compliance).
The latter argument stirred thoughts of an old theological debate over whether mankind can do what is right without the eye of God watching. The Old Testament is of one mind on this matter. Mankind cannot be trusted. There are wonderful stories told of how God corrects those who act like no one is watching.
Liberal Christianity has leaned toward the administration’s position, namely that we don’t need an eye in the sky looking over us to be sure we do what is right.
Deregulation seems to be proof that the liberal Christian position (and administration position) doesn’t work.
Americans don’t like being watched. Why don’t they trust us to obey the speed limit on our own?  Why do we need someone to mandate that we do something about greenhouse gases?
Just as I was writing all of this I read Martin Marty’s “Memo” on the back page of “Christian Century.” He says my say and more, except that he doesn’t connect with the Kyoto Treaty. (Look him up in the November 13, 2007 edition).
When we gave up the idea of Santa Claus (or even God) checking to see who’s been naughty or nice, a whole lot of people in the industrialized world decided that they don’t need to do what is right as long as no one is watching. I propose that if we can’t bring back the idea of a watchful and judging God that we at least bring back Santa Claus.

 
                                                                                     (back page)

DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

     “It’s time for me to get my hearing tested.” I sprung that on my group during my “homily” at our annual Advent Sunday champagne brunch. (“Homily” is churchese for a short talk that usually gets long).
     I don’t know whether I expected any response, but nobody seemed surprised. I caught the look of several that seemed to say “it’s about time.”
     My opinion is that I hear just fine, most of the time. I do find myself stretching to hear in crowded rooms or when someone is talking from the back seat in a car. Sometimes I’ve missed words in plays. Little things like that. What I need to find out is whether I need to get help so that I won’t miss those words and so I don’t have to say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear all of that.”
So I have decided to try to find a good place to get myself tested.
     The whole process has made me think of past omissions on my part. I never really thought much about hearing problems in my churches. They all had some kind of set up where people could sit in a pew with a hearing device on a stick that they could hold to an ear. Someone took care of that, along with the microphones. I know that I tend to be soft-spoken and conversational. I must have driven our PA tech people crazy trying to get my words to those who didn’t hear well. How many people stayed home because they couldn’t hear? I’m sorry I wasn’t more aware.
     With Advent Sunday coming up I began looking for texts and songs and carols to fit the day. With hearing on my mind I started to notice certain words with an auditory message. Like the text I chose for Jean to read had words like “ear” and “hearing” and “having ears but not hearing.”
     The words are everywhere in the carols, like “Silent Night” and “Angels we have Heard on High.” Other songs have the word “listening.” It was Paul who sang the lovely carol, “Do you hear what I hear?”
     Are these word messages trying to tell me that I should get my ears fixed?
     The truth is that everyone wants to hear. Those who have no problem take hearing for granted. Those who have trouble hearing want to. At least I do. When Paul sings “Do You Hear What I Hear?” I am thinking, do I hear what you hear? Do you hear what I hear? I often find myself among friends who ask one another, “What did he say?” “Did you get that?” “I didn’t catch that.”
     One song on Advent was “Hey, Hey, Anybody Listening?” Sometimes I think I don’t hear some things because I’m not really listening. Husbands often have that kind of hearing problem. That’s not good.
     This whole story is getting a bit crazy. Hearing and Advent. Advent as a time for listening so we can hear. We’re supposed to anticipate the day when our hearing is rewarded by the sound of a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger? I don’t think I can sell that to most in my audience.
     I’ve got good news for the hard of hearing. This whole religion business doesn’t require good ears. In fact, it doesn’t require belief or even faith. I think it does require openness to the silent messages that emerge in this season. While the message in this season is Christian it is not unique in the journey of human kind. Christians happen to have the theology wrapped up in a wonderful and poetic story. The holy that we thought of as distant and beyond knowing is in our very midst. In fact the gifts for which we pray have already been delivered into our midst and only await our claiming. I speak of gifts like healing, forgiveness and peace. If we don’t have them it’s not anyone’s fault but our own. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.
     A little boy used to come to our church every Sunday with his mother. He would sit down in front. He wore big hearing aids, like ear muffs. I wasn’t sure he could hear, but he watched me intently. Maybe he was reading my lips. He always smiled. And he reached up and shook my hand after church.
     That was over 30 years ago now and he’s a grown man. The only time I’ve seen him is at our Christmas Eve service at the Old World Deli and Pub. He still smiles and shakes my hand. I still don’t know what he hears with his ears, but I think I know what he hears with his heart.
“How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given,
 So God imparts to human hearts, the blessings of his heaven.
 No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin,
 where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in."
     I think that’s how advent happens, if or when it happens. But I’m still going to get my ears checked.
─ Art Morgan, December 2007