Song Links: In general, the highlighted text is the song title. There's a few instances where I didn't state the song title (Heart of the Appaloosa, Everything Possible) so I had to pick something else as the link text. There's also a couple instances where I wasn't confident that the average listener/reader would recognize the historical reference, so I included a link to the applicable Wikipedia page (which in the case of Orphan Train took priority over using the same text segment for the YoutTube link). Sorry, I wasn't able to find a web version of Average Woman; you'll have to get your hands on a physical copy of the recording to hear that one.
This is a super exciting opportunity for me. Normally I'm hesitant about speaking over the pulpit, knowing that pretty much everything I say is unconventional and not being sure how that will be received. In this case, [second counselor] deliberately assigned the subject of "What I Do To Be Closer To God" to ward members with atypical life experiences, along with direction to focus on personal perspective rather than the conventional scripts. So I was specifically asked to speak unconventionally today!
Because of this variance, I'm going to need to take several tangents in order to explain concepts that don't exist in Mormon culture. I will try to work those into a straightforward narrative, but don't know how successful I'm going to be at that.
Starting with the term "culture"... that was formally defined in my college level Intro to Anthropology textbook as "the system of learned beliefs and customs that characterize the total way of life for a particular society" but I was aware of the concept of different groups having different standards and perspectives much earlier.
I grew up in the foothills of the coast range, and went to a small rural elementary school where many of my classmates had family members working in the timber logging industry and/or raised livestock for personal use. Despite the "redneck" stereotypes, the frequency of physical labor and demand for diverse skill sets in everyday responsibilities resulted in an culture that emphasized personal independence and competence.
At my mother's insistence, my family went to the Methodist church in the nearest town every Sunday. Religiously organized white-collar people put a lot more focus on looking alike and following social prescriptions than non-denominational hillbillies do. The alternative perspective I'd gotten from my school classmates and my hippie father had me conscious of the opportunity to deliberately choose between presented cultural values well before I hit my teen years. When it became apparent that blindly following the presented standards of faith was expected, I quit going to church. After an incident at church camp where my peer group had left a wheelchair-bound developmentally disabled girl alone at the bottom of a flight of steps while they socialized upstairs and I was the one who got in trouble for making the inclusionary effort of having a friend help me carry her up, I broke of all association with organized religion.
For the next decade, my standard response to "You don't go to church? You're going to go to Hell!" was "Good. At least I won't have to put up with YOU there." I didn't (and still don't) associate the concept of morality with religious conviction. I also spent most of my teen years absolutely miserable thanks to a combination of unsupportive environment and un-diagnosed medical issues, sincerely believing that "if there is a God, he hates my guts". Even with my later return to organized religion, my understanding of the concept of "God" is still a bit fuzzy... people are relatively straightforward in their expressions of approval or disapproval which makes it easy to assess whether or not they're worth the effort of associating with, disembodied or distant religious figures much less so.
Matthew 18: 20 "where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them" has always stuck with me as recognizing the value of shared experiences... although in a world where as much evil as good is done "in the name of Christ", that's not a very helpful standard either. With so many world religions agreeing on the basic tenants of peace, compassion, love, and harmony, I'm inclined to believe that any exercise of those principles is in alignment with benevolent divine powers... whether we call that power God, Great Spirit, Gaia, or something else completely different.
So my definition of "closer to God" is experiences which make being alive feel good and worthwhile, especially so if done in companionship with other like minded people. What LDS people call "service projects" are an obvious example, although my emphasis in doing service is more about the participation experience than being able to show off the final result. Structured examples of things that I've done include being a volunteer firefighter/first responder in my hometown, using ham radio capabilities to do administrative coordination and safety communications for a variety of public events, Search & Rescue, and Habitat for Humanity construction projects. Less structured examples include volunteering at a shelter for homeless teenagers, my duties here as your Primary Secretary, and caring for the foster children placed in my home.
The service moments that mean the most to me are the ones where I was in the right place to do something that probably wouldn't have happened otherwise. Some examples from my evenings at the youth shelter: Walking a girl to the bus stop a quarter mile away and back, so she would know where to catch the bus to school the next morning... and being told during the walk back to the shelter that without the extra guidance, she probably would have used a different stop about halfway there and ended upon the wrong bus. Arriving at the shelter for my usual Wednesday evening to be greeted by excited cheers from a youth who knew from past experience that I would be able to help her with her math homework. Spending several hours straight helping that same kid with math homework, as she voluntarily skipped snack time in order to make the most use of my presence; the two of us simultaneously protesting "one more problem" when told by a staff member that it was time to pack up and go to bed, and going home significantly later than I'd intended to stay thoroughly enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling at having finished that homework assignment.
Some examples from one-time activities and other random encounters: Taking a 1-block detour from my planned route to the transit center in order to guide a disoriented blind man to the utility company office that he was trying to reach. Trusting a prompting to attend a Relief Society activity that as usual I didn't get anything out of participation in... but I was in the right place to support two women who had traumatic memories triggered by that activity. Earlier this month, I got the adventure of helping a person in a motorized wheelchair navigate a sprawling two-story building that neither one of us had ever been in before.
Other activities that I value for the social connection include role playing and strategy board games, and community dances like square and contra (that's c-o-n-t-r-A, not that other word that ends with a Y). Mental and physical capabilities, variable as those may be, are a God-given gift so challenging ourselves and each other to fully utilize those is a good thing!
Which brings me to the category of experience that I feel the most divine power in, but wouldn't have been able to adequately explain without the context I've already shared: Music.
I grew up listening to folk music, which is so much more than just a tune and a story... that genre is full of historical tributes and precedents, links between past and present stories, and reminders that the actions we make today will become part of the next generation's history. It's as much a pep rally motivating the kinds of actions I've described thus far as an entertainment media to be consumed. Those of you who were at the jam evening at [primary music leader / former bishopric member]'s home last December heard some of the songs I'm about to reference.
Fred Small's telling of the tragic Nez Perce flight toward Canada simultaneously celebrates their legacy in the Appaloosa breed of horses. The Orphan Trains had stopped running before Utah Phillips was born, but his telling of that legacy repeatedly pleads with the listener to "take us in," a need that is just as applicable with the modern child welfare system. John McCutcheon added a third verse to Walter Robinson's tribute to Harriet Tubman and her service in the Underground Railroad, extending the "come on up!" invitation to modern refugees from Central & South America.
Those examples are relatively impersonal ones... others challenge the listener/singer to take personal action:
The Big Muddy was written by Pete Seeger during the height of the Vietnam War, but it's stateside setting and absence of personal names make it a timeless reminder of the danger of blindly following anytime a "big fool says to push on." Judy Small emphasizes that every social movement is made up of countless individuals, each of whom contribute One Voice of energy to the outcome; "without you we are weaker and our song may not be heard." Fred Small's expression of unconditional love for a child concludes with a value statement that "the only measure of your words and your deeds will be the love you leave behind when you're done."
Heidi Muller's song about an unnamed woman presumably fleeing from an abusive relationship repeatedly states that "the average woman is woman enough." In another of her writings, reflections on the Whitebark Pine tree note that even "small and twisted things can split the hardest stone." Stan Rogers' story about the salvaging of a fictional shipwreck comes with a refrain to "like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again!" His brother Garnet wrote about a real experience of purchasing a mistreated former racehorse and nursing her back to health, describing the resulting foal as "one more small victory."
All of these songs are power motivators individually, even more so when shared with other people. The most spiritual experience in my life occurred at the Labor Showcase portion of Seattle's Northwest Folklife Festival a few years after I joined this church. I would guess that some of you are already familiar with German Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller's poem explaining the process by which the Nazi party had acquired the power to systematically exterminate whole classes of "undesirable" people:
First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists... and so on for several other classes of people, concluding with
Then they came for meMichael Stern rearranged those words and set them to music, adding the solution to preventing that tragedy from happening again: "I'm going to stand up." The Seattle Labor Chorus performed this song as part of their set, in a packed theater... and for the final verse, the entire audience of more than 500 people stood up. That experience of committing to take action in the form of solidarity, along with hundreds of other people was profound and has stuck with me ever since, providing additional motivation for all of the day-to-day activities that I engage in.
And there was no one left
To speak out for me
It's what Jesus did while he was on the earth, and would be doing today if he was here.
*scripture quote deliberately taken from the NIV Bible, which is a more substantially-accurate translation than the literally-translated KJV.
And because it's a blog I might as well keep the list of other songs that I thought of including but ended up not making the cut...
(Let the Light from the Lighthouse) Shine On Me [According to the accompanying insert from the CD on which Shanghaid on Willamette recorded this song, it's was a traditional gospel hymn before getting a maritime retrofit by Bob Zentz.]
Johnathon Lay - When Carissa Came Ashore
Shanghaied on the Willamette - Watch Your Backs [About the Shanghai days at Portland's docks]
Phil Ochs - Here's to the State of ___ [I've heard three different versions of this song - Ronald Regan, Richard Nixon, and Mississippi; sadly, all it takes to modernize is change a few names.]
The Righteous Mothers - Py [not finding an online version of the song, but this article gives some brief details about the woman/incident it's about (which didn't exist last time I went looking for the backstory, yay I learned something too!)]
Phil Ochs - Draft Dodger Rag
Phil Ochs - I Ain't Marching Anymore
Fred Small - Denmark 1943
Who Were the Witches [Original version by Bonnie Lockhart was almost all in past tense; The Gaia Choir shifted it more towards present tense.]
Never Turning Back [Authorship credited to Pat Humphries, I've only ever heard it performed by Judy Small.]
Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer - Gentle Arms of Eden
