Monday, July 16, 2012

I wish I could sing like Tracy Nelson

Joel wants this played and sung at his funeral... and no, it's not like he's dying --we just talk about stuff like that, you know.



Just is, if he dies here on the Reservation and I do find a way to play this at his wake or something... then everybody will think I've gone off the deep end or something, and I'm not saying I wouldn't or won't, just is, it's not this lament that will prove it.... !!

Anyhoooo --D is visiting us here from B'more! For and week and a little. Picked her up in Rapid after the funeral on Saturday, got home at 2am Sunday, slept for a few hours, got in the saddle the next morning and began a Sunday trek that took us to Dupree, Thunder Butte and Bear Creek. It was over 100 degrees. Oh. So. Hot.

The first church had no electricity, no water no nothing --but it was good. The Roman church in town was selling a breakfast, so we went and had breakfast there --I'm not sure they knew quite what to do with us, women in collar and all. We used their bathroom, because then we went to Thunder Butte which has power (and AC TBTG!) but no bathroom or running water --just an outhouse. Then we sat around in the parish hall, which has no AC or power, but the Indian Tacos (fry bread and all the fixings) overrode any other physical discomfort.... And then to Bear Creek, where in 104 degree heat we baptized two children with a crowd of about 18 children looking on, and the adults standing to the back of the little church where there is no electricity, no water, no outhouse, no nothing....

And it was all good. It reminds me that Christians have been meeting for centuries without electricity, water or lush flushes, and puts me in mind of greater things --which brings me back to Joel's request for "Mother Earth" to be sung at his funeral...

I am so deeply grateful to serve in a place where we grab a bowl from the kitchen to use as the font, and where candles are actually functional and are not merely decoration....

--and wondering if Tracy Nelson would just come and visit for a week and sing us up in the morning, sing us to encouragement in the afternoon, and sing us to sleep in the evening... talk about prayer....



--and I am so deeply grateful that I am blessed with the physical where-with-all to serve in this place...

--and I am so deeply grateful that D shared her gracious and patient presence with all, the children wanting to know who she is, where she is from and where she was going to spend the night... --and being deeply aware in so very many helpful ways.

--and I morphed the Eucharistic prayer (B) to name parts of creation for which we were grateful --two-leggeds, birds of the air, four-leggeds and all, named the nation Israel --yes, but also the Nations here, and gave thanks for the prophets and visionaries in every place and every generation... Did it spontaneously the first time, and purposefully the rest of the day, adding more....

--and thought about how in this place, the young people do actively engage in seeking a vision, led by the elders, prayed for, and encouraged to act upon the vision given them....

--and how the generational grief --the inherited grief from events such as Wounded Knee, still brings tears which run down the faces of the old ladies at the lunch table --and the silent burdens shift their weight from the elderly to the young... and the old ladies know it, and want it to stop. Don't want the next generation to forget, but don't want them to know and carry their grief.

There is grief enough.

At prayer this morning (from Psalm 25)

He guides the humble in doing right
and teaches his way to the lowly.
All the paths of the LORD are love and faithfulness...

Hey God, it's margaret. I do not come from a humble people. Humble was only an opinion --which was not. Humble, that is.

I hope I am learning.

Thank you for this day.
Thank you for everything that has brought me to this day.
Help me know your paths of love and faithfulness.
Amen.

PS -and I wish I could sing like Tracy Nelson.... Perhaps in heaven?

8 comments:

Kevin Scott said...

Conducted a funeral once for a man who was a jazz pianist. Neither he nor the mourners (son and partner) were too sure about the God-thing.

So we simply played Oscar Peterson.
Hymn to Freedom; no sugary lyrics, just the wonderful music.

And just the words of committal ...

So moving; so right.

susan s. said...

Oh, Honey! Not everyone can sing like Tracy, but maybe in heaven we get to!!

Glad you worked that prayer.

it's margaret said...

Kevin --love that!

susan s. --in heaven, yes.

susan s. said...

I meant to say "we _all_ get too!!"

it's margaret said...

she sings from the gut --from the center... ya know what I mean?

susan s. said...

Exactly!! And the heart!

Renee said...

Greetings and aloha--I found your blog through the Daily Office website and so thankful for it! "No outsiders" in particular, as I am white in a tiny church in a tiny community that views outsiders (often rightly) with suspicion. Anyway, feeling particularly alone these days and thankful for your perspective.

it's margaret said...

Welcome Renee! Glad you are here. Glad you are there.