Listening to the Right Voice

Don’t you enjoy the stories from your childhood? I remember the day my mother, my half-sister and I were driven in a Chevrolet pick-up truck from one side of town to the other or as they used to say in some parts of the south, from one side of the tracks to the other. Mom had just suffered her second separation and a divorce was on the way. I rode in the back with our luggage and a few pieces of furniture. I quickly learned the meaning of poverty. We moved into a simple, dilapidated duplex. We had no television, just an AM/FM radio on top of the refrigerator, and no kitchen table. The only furniture that fit into my bedroom was a bunk bed. We walked our laundry to a nearby laundromat. Matter of fact, we walked everywhere, to school, to church, to work. Mom didn’t have a car.

One of the characteristics I remember about the duplex is that it was constructed with a wide and deep crawl space underneath. You could bend down, look underneath the house, and see the knees of anyone standing on the other side. Well, as luck would have it, I found myself one afternoon in the backyard with my bb gun. I heard the screen door open and slam on the front porch and knelt down out of curiosity to see who might be coming down the front door steps. It happened to be my little sister.

Kneeling, I not only saw my sister standing in the front, but also a number of pipes running from the kitchen floor to the ground. To show you how a bright mind works, I wondered what the odds would be of hitting my sister if I aimed my bb gun at one of the pipes, pulled the trigger, and the bb ricochet and strike her on one of her legs. The odds had to be out of this world. This turned out to be a day that I listened to the wrong voice. I carefully aimed at a pipe and wouldn’t you know it, the bb was on target, steel on steel. It ricocheted at just the right angle and hit my sister just below the right knee. Her cry was loud (and I do mean loud) and distinct. My mother scurried to the front to see what in the world had happened. The evidence was clear. You could see the site of impact and the subsequent bruise. Needless to say, the afternoon did not end well.

This has been a different sort of week as politicians and civic leaders debate who has the authority to do this and that in response to the coronavirus. When will we be able to open the doors of our shops, restaurants, stores and other workplaces and get back to work? When will our schools open? When will we be able to gather as a church family on a Sunday morning? And the big one: When will things get back to normal? The questions are endless. I’m not sure any one person has the answer as this whole situation evolves in front of us.

I touch on the subject because I think it is imperative that we be careful not to listen to the wrong voices. When we do, only trouble waits around the corner. There is great wisdom recorded in the book of Proverbs. When we fail to practice discipline in our lives, it can often lead to ruin. This is a difficult and hard time for all of us. I, for one, like to do chores around the house and I enjoy yard work, walks with Kay, and reading in my living room chair, but I also enjoy parish work, which is severely limited. I can’t visit friends in the hospital or at home, and folks can’t come to see me. The church office is closed. It seems like the world has been turned on its head!

We can’t wish our way out of this and, unfortunately, there is no magic wand. We’ve got to listen and follow the guidance of public health officials, medical professionals, civic leaders and government agencies as we commit ourselves to staying the course. If we do not, there is great potential for only making matters worse. All of this takes patience and discipline.

In closing, the gospel lesson for today from the Daily Lectionary comes to us from Mark 16:9-16. Following the resurrection, Jesus finds his disciples sitting at a table. The beginning of the visit is strained. Jesus was upset about their lack of faith and stubbornness. Unlike our brothers sitting at the table, discombobulated and out of sorts, let us do what we can to be in the right spot, at the right time, doing the right thing so we can get back as quickly as we can doing the things we like to do. Let us listen to the right voice. Good night and Amen. +

—
Steve Keeler, Pastor