Christmas Story

I have always had a place in my heart for the Christmas memories my parents created for us. One of my favorite stories I like to share with people is the time my father pretended to be Santa Claus.

When I was about 3 and my brother 5, my dad decided to play Santa. We really believed Santa existed and we always put cookies and beer on the mantle near the tree, and we hoped he would come this year... my brother was always under the threat of getting coal in his his stocking.

Anyway, my dad put up an extension ladder against the house near our window and jingled a string of real "jingle bells" bellowing out "ho, ho, ho". My brother and I heard that and we whispered to each other to get under the covers before Santa finds out we were were really awake! We then heard this very loud scraping and imagined Santa's sleigh landing on the roof! Then we heard fairly loud crash, which we "knew" was the heavy sleigh landing (not to mention all those reindeer!). Then we heard Santa calling our mother's name "Dorothy.... Dorothy....."

- His ladder had slid across the side of the house and crashed onto the veranda (enclosed porch) and since the ladder was on the ground "Santa" had no way of getting off the roof of the porch!

The cookies and beer were always gone in the morning!

Poetry: "She Is Silent Now"

Here is another one of my poems that I have been writing to memorialize some of the remarkable people I have the privilege of meeting through my work as a Hospice Chaplain. In that work, we often meet people who at one time in their lives were vivacious and very engaged with everyone around them. Sometimes, as time and disease overtake these precious ones, they are no longer the person they used to be. This is sad, but by recounting their lives, it can become a point of celebration of their lives as we once knew them.


She Is Silent Now…


She was a talker…
Almost non-stop
When she spoke
She laughed

A social gadfly
Everyone’s friend
Kind words
Given freely

She talked about life
She talked about dreams
She talked about the future
She talked about weddings

Looking at pictures
Of social events
Where she talked a lot
She is silent now

But her echo
Is heard in the
Things she touched
She is silent now

A smile
Catches a lone tear
She talked once
She is silent now





Richard D Harris
10/24/2009

We run into people who we knew years ago, remembered by a single defining character trait. Now things are different, and we choose to remember the best in this soul now changed forever by time and human frailty. We celebrate them in the sadness of remembrance.

Norway, from the train!

THE BEACH...

The Beach

The sun was hot... the sand was hotter than the sun,
We went from sun-soaked sand to cool refreshing water.
You were our own personal life-guard,
Seriously studying the surging water...counting heads.

Ocean breezes caress our brows,
Memories flash and form in this love filled room,
Thinking back to that magical moment,
Every time I smell the Ocean.

You held my hand tight as we raced down the beach
So we would be the first to cross the imaginary finish line.
We slept on the way home...
Too tired to traumatize our siblings.

Those moments on the beach... frozen in my memory...
Like a picture-postcard! Precious...Inviting.
You made those moments possible,
And I am grateful.

The beach... not just a place...
But an encounter with time and tender thoughts....
An accumulation of memories of good times with you.
You wanted us to be happy... and we were...

And I am happy at this moment
as I see you smiling on the beach.

By Richard D Harris

This piece is a tribute to my mother... and to all mothers who did all they could to make summer memories for their children. Those memories live on... and fill our lives with joy.

Friends

Mary Jayne, Ingrid, Rick

We have a wonderful friend from Sweden who came to visit this weekend. Ingrid and her parents were a part of our church for many years before moving to Sweden. Ingrid is a talented lady who teaches in a local school in Sweden and has 4 handsome and intelligent boys, and a husband who is the typical quiet Swede with that dry humor. We don't see each other much, but keep in touch now and then. Two years ago my wife and I went on vacation with Ingrid and her mother, Irene, to Norway (where Irene's family is from), and saw the Fjords and all the other wonderful sights and sounds (and foods!) of Scandinavia. We had an absolutely wonderful vacation with our friends, and hope to repeat it someday.

I remember hearing that 'true friends can be counted on one hand'... and over the years, I believe that is very true. I believe it was C.S. Lewis who said that these type of friends are the kind that when you don't see them for a long time, and you begin to talk, it is as if you pick up the conversation where you left off. And that is what true friends are... they are people that you always have in your heart. You may not converse every day, you may not see each other for years at a time, but when you do meet up again, it's like you just saw them 'yesterday'!

Be glad you have a handful of friends!


(p.s., I think the C.S. Lewis quote is from "The Four Loves"... a literary scholars 'exposition' of the various Greek words for 'love.')

Poetic Insiration

Thoughts About Poetic Inspiration


The misty fog of sleep
Yields waking moments of inspiration.
In the darkness I wrote as best as I could between
The shadows on the paper on my desk.

A bit of poetry creeping through my mind...
A stray cat floats through my yard,
It sticks there, like the image in your eye
After a bright object scores your retina.

Stumbling around in half-sleep
Grasping for a pen to write down
Nobel winning words…
I must capture it before it floats away.

Finally my eyes focus on the paper
And I write in large hand
Hoping the words will be recognized
By a sane and fully awakened bard.

The next day, this dreamer wonders
If the dream is real… did I write it down?
Yes! It's there… barely legible
Waiting for a strong hand to bend the words.

The very event inspires me.
That a moment in time… takes on reality
And the words that came to me in the dark
Make a difference to the somnolent reader.


(somnolent= tired, weary)

by Richard D Harris

Another Jazz Event

It was a perfect summer evening in upstate NY and the church had a large tent they use for Vacation Bible School. They left it up for my event, and took down the dividers and put card tables up for an evening of music and entertainment. The church worked hard at advertising and 'word of mouth'. The tables were decorated beautifully by the Pastor's wife and crew. Although there were not as many as they wished, it was a wonderful evening, and everyone who came expressed appreciation for effort of providing the music and evening.

Some lessons learned:
1. Try to keep abreast of local events and things that might be a conflict with the church event.
2. Encourage people to be asking and reminding people about the event, and then make one last call to help them remember that they said they were coming to the event.
3. Don't worry about who is there or who is not there. Leave those things in the Lord's hands.... he is much better at it than we are!

On the whole the program I presented gave the church some ideas on how to do it 'next time', and tweek things to have things ready for the next event.

I love doing this, and I am gratified that the church family were so very enthusiastic.

Doing a "Spiritual Assessment"

Assessing a Soul

I pick up a tool…

An ethereal can opener

A holy pry-bar

To pop the lid off this Soul

I am allowed to see

…if only for a moment…

The shadows and faded pictures

Of a deeply guarded spirituality

What gives meaning to this Soul?

What thoughts are laid bare

In this Sacred Space

Afforded to me

Did I hear that cry…

Between the lines of Cascading words

Powerful emotions are covered

By multiple facades

Love, Hate, Joy, Sorrow

Jealousy, Pride, Anger

The spigot is pouring now

Splashing down on virgin ground

Do you pray?

Do you long to touch the face of your God?

Do you “lift up your eyes to the hills?”

Do you wait to hear a “still, small voice?”

I Assess a Soul

And that Soul Assesses me.

Anatomy of a poem

OK, Let's say you're sleeping soundly and then slide into that REM sleep thing, and you go down that sometimes bizarre road of disconnected ideas and images. Then you start to wake, and your thoughts get more rational as you enter the atmosphere.... That's how I describe some of my inspiration for writing my poetry. For example this last evening/morning, I came out of one of those "foggy rooms" and a phrase of poetry stuck with me. I woke up in the darkness and had this urge to write it down, so I grabbed a pen and wrote as best as I could between the shadows on the paper on my desk.

The phrase that just 'came' to me has to do with what we do as Chaplains (in my case Hospice). We must "assess" a person spiritually, to see how to help that person the best possible way as things deteriorate in that person's life. We call this a "Spiritual Assessment". So, I woke up thinking about my work, I suppose, and all the ways we have to get the person to talk about their spiritual interest (or not). We find things that are meaningful to that individual. Sometimes it may be a spouse or family member. It might be a church experience, or better yet a personal encounter with Jesus Christ. (Note: from the Chaplain's perspective, he/she allows the individual to tell the story of their own faith journey, and then we do whatever possible to encourage them to follow their own path, which may include true Christian faith experience.) (Note on this Note: Being a chaplain is somewhat more complicated than being a Pastor. I make no apology for being both.)

Back to POETRY.... Ok, I rub my waking eyes, and this powerful little phrase sticks with me:

I Assess a Soul,
and that Soul Asesses me.

I spent some time working my poem around that thought and will share it in my next post. But I thought you might be interested in knowing how those creative juices work... then again, if you are not interested, no harm done.... (it's my blog.....! )

Adventures in Sitting

Probably most of us have gone to meetings of one sort or another, where the object is to see if you can survive 12 hours of sitting still and listening or reading (or both). Denominational meetings are like that. A certain weariness sets in after the first 9 hours... it seems that all the pages start looking the same, and the discussion sounds like your mother singing to you, putting you to sleep for the night after tucking you in. You doze, and open your eyes and more papers have grown in the empty space on the table. There are important things discussed, and welcomed 'breaks', but it still does not take away from the problem of the human body not being built for sitting for that long of a time for several days...

OK, I know there are some who enjoy the banter and 'eat up' the procedural stuff, and Robert's Rules of Order sits right next to their Bibles. That's OK... 'more power to them.' For me, it's an exercise in endurance.

.... more of my poetry.

The Rain


The rain passes, eventually
But in the meantime
It clouds our vision
It makes us wet
And we slosh through oceans.

It's a fascinating sound
Sometimes pounding the house
Sometimes caressing the flowers
It makes us tired
And we sleep

It makes us anxious at times
It invades our plans
It comes uninvited
It disturbs our sensibilities
And we observe the dark clouds.

It sustains the land
It fills our wells
It renews the earth
It cleanses the air
And everything is new.

It is a picture of our hearts
It washes away the dust -
The shadows in my spirit
That make me want to cry
And I am refreshed!





By Richard D. Harris
April 2009

Harassing Alligators!

TELL ME... Who in their right mind would HARASS an Alligator!!! ..... I guess there are people who do such foolish things! It just makes no sense at all!

It reminds me of Christians who "play" with sinful activities that can "bite"! You are asking for trouble! What we at first think is fun... turns out the be what the KJV Bible says is the "pleasures of sin for a season". In other words, it might be fun to mess with an Alligator... but if you don't pay attention... it WILL bite you! There is no logical explanation "why" we do dumb stuff... but we are all prone to it. I am sure there are occasions when even the "safest" among us steps out on a limb an does something "wild"... it is just in those weak moments when the Alligator will snap! On the other hand, there are some among us who somehow think that the Alligator will never be interested in us... and we mess with it anyway! Then it snaps!

There is a good reason the sign is there! It is a reminder that there are consequences for poor choices... and the size of the bite is dependant on the size of the Alligator you are playing with!

SERVING AT THE MISSION

Our church has a unique ministry to the men of the Market Street Mission in Morristown NJ. We have a service and dessert night once or twice a year, mostly at our church, but this time at the Mission.

Our church family makes the desserts and provides the venue for a great evening of music and fellowship with people we would probably never have a chance to rub shoulders with. I see this as a great opportunity to have our church folks get to interact with the homeless and addicted, and build bridges with the "outcasts" of our society and show them that there are people in the church that do care, and want to serve them. The service is composed of music that we sing, and some that the men of the mission sing every day in their chapel. It is such a delight to hear and participate with them as they sing their hearts out with music we are not familiar with. It is truly a 'cross-cultural' experience. I am so proud to be part of this church that has opened it's doors and hearts to the 'weakest' among us.

As you can see in the photo there is a lot of literal 'shoulder rubbing' going on.

More from Norway

Norway Fjords... one of my most favorite places on earth. I am so privileged to have been able to see this part of God's creation... I am also so very grateful to God for giving us such a sweet and wonderful friend in Irene, a long time member in our church who now lives in Sweden. She graciously took us to see the Fjords and other parts of Norway when we were on vacation the summer before last. I have so many fantastic photos that it is taking me a long time to go through each one and run them through my photo enhancers.

What was so very encouraging was the vibrant Evangelical Christian movement in that region of the world. We attended a "tent meeting" in the town we stayed in with our host. There is a genuine moving of the Holy Spirit in the Scandinavian countries. There is a huge traditional "state church" movement, and it seems to be more cultural than anything, but there are real, genuine believers who want to make a difference in their communities for Christ. It was really neat to meet other believers who were excited about the Lord!

Any comments on the photo?

Worried?

It is always a good thing when people look to helping others, especially when times are tough. We are all worried about the economy, but then again, maybe the bright side of the cloud is found in the fact that we are oftentimes more generous... and probably more gracious... since we are all hurting in some fashion.

Our church is making a special project of preparing for those people who might need a "lift" during this economic "down-turn". We in the church are vulnerable to the same weakness of the human condition as everyone else. We worry about all kinds of things (right now, it seems, it is the financial crisis our country and world are facing.

My church sign message is that we need to look out for each other, we need to look at what we have in our pared-down barns and see what we can offer to our neighbors.

Recession might not be a bad thing.

What about Music...

I wanted to say something about my poem that I posted recently - "My Music."

On the last line of this stanza I said: "Then comes a blush..."

Majestic…lyrical…circling
Sounds invade my soul
Images sparkle before me
As the music swells and dies.
Then comes a blush.

(Poem found here)

When I was writing the poem I had an instant 'flashback' to the first time I heard live music in a restaurant. There was an older gentleman playing an accordion (Italian restaurant, of course), and a young lady was with him walking about the place singing for the patrons. When they got to the area where my wife and I were sitting, I remember the incredible power of the music as it was performed (a classical Italian piece)... and I was so struck by the majesty of the moment that it made me blush... and I clapped along with everyone else... all were moved in that moment. My blush was from an excitement of being presented with truly fine music that someone put many hours (years) in perfecting, and they were giving it as a gift to us.

I thought about changing that line, thinking that some people might misunderstand or think it a misplaced word... but it is not a misplaced word.

My Music...

Today I want to share with you what my music is all about. Whether it's playing trumpet in church or Jazz solo before an audience of seniors, the "soulish" quality of music never ceases to amaze me. In the last 5 years since I have been doing public performances, I have come to appreciate the power of music to move the soul... no matter what genre. I have come to the place where music played well, is an offering to God... the creative Master who infuses us with His creativity.

My latest poem expresses these feelings and I hope you enjoy this.

My Music…


A hallowed sound in a hallowed place
Raises spirits and lowers anxiety
The sound envelops the soul
Of a tired, often sad seeker.
Then comes a smile.

The music, like a silky breeze
Floats over and past the ears
Caressing the wrinkled heart
Causing a flood of memories.
Then comes a sigh.

The notes rise and fall
Waiting for resolution
Major key turns to minor
Melody always coming home.
Then comes a nod.

Majestic…lyrical…circling
Sounds invade my soul
Images sparkle before me
As the music swells and dies.
Then comes a blush.

The privilege is mine
To be the chauffer
Of such persuasive rhythms
That move the heart.
Then… I smile.

Earthquakes in New Joisy... again!

Here is my church sign I put up after our third unusual earthquake in the the Dover NJ area.

This is meant as a humorous commentary on our local tremors.... I really don't know if the building is e-quake proof, but it probably is since it is cinderblock covered with brick. Who knows.... anyway, I will keep the sign up until someone tells me how trite it is... or worse - false advertising! (Lighten up people !)

One thing is for sure, the child of God may be shaken, but the Lord will carry him through the rough times of life. It is so great to know that no matter how difficult things can be at times, our Heavenly Father wants us to rest in him, knowing that He holds us in His hands. end......

OK... I'll take the sign down.

Hope in the Lord

OK... we know we cannot trust in the stock market.... as we see the volitile market going 'bonkers' today.

Our Lord can be trusted to care for us and watch over us during these difficult times. Our focus must be on Him and His love for us. It is so easy to get caught up in the fear and anxiety that just floods our conversations and minds. Just today I heard a gentleman talk about the sharp decline in the market today... while he was purchasing a used book! It's on everyone's minds right now.

I know it is "easy" to say 'trust the Lord', but for Christians that is our hope... and ultimately our JOY. Through-out Scripture we are told over and over to stop looking at the wind and waves and look at the Savior! This is NOT a cop-out, or a closing of our eyes to the problem at hand. It is a way of life... an attitude of the heart that says I am not going to be controlled today by these foreboding thoughts. I am going to turn my attention to my Savior, and let Him whisper His love in my ear, so I can rest in Him, knowing that He knows what is happening and has a watchful eye on us, His children. So stop, already, with the worrying and fretting! Get on with the business of trusting in our Lord!

Jazz Trumpet

I have been playing Jazz trumpet for the last 4 or 5 years now and enjoy presenting the music in various venues. I have played in nursing homes, assisted living places, dinner meetings, and weddings. What started out as a casual interest has become a large part of my life and time. This past year or so I have added a new twist and started playing at churches as an "outreach" to the community. I started with my own church and had terrific success in drawing people from our community and provided a venue for good music that non-church, as well as church people can enjoy in positive environment.

How we do this is to set up the basement (fellowship hall) as a "jazz club" without the typical things you might find in such establishments such as booze and tobacco. Most church people don't go to places like that and have missed out on a tremendous experience of hearing good live music - in this case Jazz. I do this purely for the love of it and don't ask for money. I am targeting small churches in my denomination (at first) to help them provide an venue for people from the area to come to a place where there is excellent live music, friendly people, and FREE everything. My thinking is that the "church" is associated with wanting money all the time. So to counter that we serve coffee and light refreshments for free, as well as no charge for the music.

One observation is that when people come into this type of environment, there is a tendency to talk and enjoy the company of other during the musical performance. At first this bothered my, however, that's what you do at a Jazz club! The music is sort of a backdrop to the social gathering that takes place.

Last evening I presented a Jazz program at a local church that had never done anything like this...ever. It was a truly exciting event and of the 60 or so people that attended, more than half were NOT from that church! The idea is that the pastor and church people have an opportunity to sit down and just get to know people and develop relationships that will open the the door for further contact. It is not meant to be an "evangelistic meeting"... it is prequel to possible further contact. The idea is to open doors of familiarity, so that the non-church people who come to an event like this might just be more inclined to make further contact when they are in need, or are just curious about the fine people who provide a fine music event and don't ask for money!

Last night's event was particularly gratifying, not just for the good reception, but for the fact that all our objectives were met, and people left having a good opinion about this church and people.

Really cool Bell Choir

Take a look at this

POETRY IS COOL

I have composed a number of poems this past year, and I have found it very rewarding. I would like to share a few of my pieces now and then. Most of my work has been related to the work that I do as a Pastor and Chaplain for Hospice. I meet remarkable people, and have an opportunity to get to know them in a way that causes me to want to write about them!

This piece talks about the role of our five senses in remembering those we love.

On another occasion I want to talk about my favorite poet: Ted Kooser. I stumbled on his work at Barnes and Noble one day. What struck me most about him is that he writes they way I do... not bragging here, but his work touched my heart with the subject matter and method of expression. He tries to keep things minimal, and always has a powerful ending. I will share some of his stuff in the days ahead. For now, here is one of my pieces:

MEMORIES


Memories are funny things
They shape our thinking
And make us laugh… most of the time.

A simple sound or voice
Reminds us of someone
And our spirits melt

A certain aroma transports us
To a place of shared happiness
And with closed eyes… we remember

Music… that magical memory maker
Moves us to hear
Echoes of love and hope

A touch… gentle and strong
Jogs my forgetfulness
And I see my love

A beautiful scene
Passes our eyes
And we are once again …there


All these things are
Weaving the threadbare fabric of the past
And we smile.





By Richard D Harris, Chaplain 1/14/2009

Waiting for the bell...

Musings at the local shop...


OK... you are sitting alone, yet all around you are people communicating electronically with everyone and everything. There are computers blinking, ipods flashing, phone conversations galore. (I was just in Panera's behind a lady having a very loud discussion with her cell phone - and I found myself being very irritated. We come into this place filled with people - and we want to be alone!

Think about that for a moment... Our lives are so filled with electronic stuff, that it seems that we are not human unless we have bluetooth growing out of our ear!

In the old days we just waited for the bell to ring... change classes!

The sound of the bell still rings in my head. Grammar school... middle school drama... pavlov's dogs - moving from room to room at the sound of the bell.

It doesn't seem much different today... except today we do it all alone... waiting for the bell to ring.

.......

PHOTO OF THE DAY:

North of Sarasota, Fl.