Saturday Haiku: Early Morning

 early morning light
unveils a lace-leaf maple
where the towhee sings

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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Letting Go

Today's post is a reposting of an essay from 2014 where I tell of how I overcame some prejudices and learned to appreciate some people I had previously discounted.

 

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”

              ~ Mark Twain

                                                                                from Innocents Abroad

  

This is a story of how I began to let go of some prejudices that I had been carrying around for a while. Having traveled and lived in other parts of the world, I can say that Mark Twain was right about travel being fatal to prejudice. Sometimes a journey to the other side of the world can open one’s eyes; at other times, all it takes is a trip across town.

First Came the Music

For most of my life I did not think very highly of Primitive Baptists.  I was raised Southern Baptist in a household that valued education.  I didn’t know any Primitive Baptists when I was growing up; I just heard stories about those “Hard Shell Baptists,” or “foot-washing Baptists.” They were typically not interested in higher education. I remember my father, a seminary educated pastor, jokingly saying that the Primitive Baptists had no seminaries because “they believe that if the Lord wants an educated pastor, He’ll call one.”

My attitude did a complete 180 a few years ago when I attended my first National Sacred Harp Convention. I was absolutely blown away by the experience. As the ones who kept Sacred Harp music alive down through the years, I saw that the Primitive Baptists had something very important to bring to the table. I wrote about it on my blog in 2011 and again in 2013. There is a growing interest in preserving the music, with Sacred Harp organizations being formed in places like Chicago, New York, Ireland, and Poland. The music really does a number on me. One year, I took an Episcopal priest friend to the Sacred Harp Convention with me who later described it as “a wondersome and transformative experience.”

This is how I described my first encounter with Sacred Harp singing:

I was captivated, stirred on the inside, tears threatening to well up – and no words had been sung yet. It was that bracing harmony of pure notes filling the sunlit space. The sound reminded me of the Bulgarian women’s folk singing that has attracted many listeners since the 1990 recording, Le Mystere Des Voix Bulgares. There was a similar directness and exuberance, a hearty primitive and uplifting – even startling – vocal effect. Yet these were regular folks, local people from Alabama and others traveling from points near and far who were producing that fantastic harmony. The visceral effect was also similar to being in the presence of bagpipes as they are played. It grabs your attention and stirs you on the inside.

In that first blog post, I went on to explain that:

Sacred Harp came to this country by way of the early English settlers. It was first established in New England before the American Revolution, but gradually died out in that part of the country. For years it was kept alive in the hills of Appalachia, particularly among the Primitive Baptists. Nowadays it continues to be preserved by Sacred Harp gatherings and conventions.

I became aware on that day of a particular treasure that had been preserved through the years by the Primitive Baptists. They were no longer some unknown oddity removed from my experience. They were conveyers of a sacred tradition that until that day I had not been privy to. Standing within that undeniable experience, I had to sift through and re-think years of uninformed prejudice.

Then Came the Book

There was this other thing I grew up hearing about those “Hard Shell” Primitive Baptists: they didn’t believe in missionary work because their Calvinist theology led them to believe that God has already decided who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell. In the Old South, some Baptist Churches called themselves “Missionary Baptist” as one way to distinguish themselves from their Calvinist Primitive Baptist cousins. A few years ago, friend who is an expert in Appalachian culture and history, and who also happens to me a Unitarian Universalist minister, told me about a fascinating book, In the Hands of a Happy God, by Howard Dorcan. The subtitle of the book is The “No-Hellers” of Central Appalachia, and it chronicles the development of a universalist strand of Primitive Baptists.  I was intrigued by the notion because I like the idea of Universalist theology – which is something that the Southern Baptists of my childhood were quite leery of. I was especially intrigued that a group of Primitive Baptists managed to arrive at such a positive outlook that most Christian denominations cannot bring themselves to believe to this day.

The title of Dorcan’s book intentionally contrasts the Primitive Baptist Universalists with that famous Calvinist New England Congregationalist preacher, Jonathan Edwards, who is best known for his sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”  In the Hands of a Happy God is part history, part sociology, and in a way a detective story. Dorcan writes about his work in tracing the development of the Primitive Baptist Universalist churches. He mentions that the churches were so similar in organization, and they simply call themselves Primitive Baptists, that he at first was not aware of their theological distinctions until further discussions with their elders. Moreover, in the Primitive Baptist tradition, there is very little "written record" of theological beliefs. The PBUs see God as a happy God because he figured out a way to redeem all of humanity. They may be the only Calvinists in the world who can say, “Yes, God has already decided who is going to heaven – and it’s EVERYBODY!”

Dorcan’s book let me see that even among these stern Calvinists who have no formal schools of theology and no centralized institutional structure, there can be a dynamic debate and exploration of ideas. Furthermore, they can shatter their own stereotypes to arrive at a happy and optimistic world view. It was just one more reason for me to gain a new appreciation for Primitive Baptists and to let go of some of my preconceived notions.

And Then There Is the Food   

One of the traditions of Sacred Harp singing is that everyone shares a big potluck dinner, or “covered dish” dinner as they used to say down South. You may have heard the expression, “All Day Singing and Dinner on the Ground.” This has its roots in the Sacred Harp tradition. Periodically, a church would designate a day set aside for singing – no preaching or formal worship service – just singing. At these gatherings people would bring their prepared dishes from home and there was always a time of fellowship when everyone would sit and eat together. The National Sacred Harp Convention continues that tradition with a pot luck meal served in the middle of each day of their annual gathering. They always invite all visitors to join them in the meal. One of the best ways to see beyond differences and into the shared humanity of another is to share a meal together. Joy and commonality can always be found around food.

If you want to get to know a group of people, spend some time singing with them; spend some time eating with them. It will not make you agree with everything they say, but it will help you to see that agreement in every detail is not really the point. Sharing life in all of its joys and sorrows, accepting people of other traditions, listening to other points of view – all of these things can contribute to a fuller life and a greater understanding of your neighbor. Next time you get a chance to travel, especially if it means singing with someone else or eating with someone else, make the journey, even if it is only across town.

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Photos:

Upper:Salem Primitive Baptist Church in Adel, Georgia

          Credit: Michael Rivera

          Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Lower: Church potluck

           Credit: Nehrams2020

           Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

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Monday Music: Old Highway (The Hillbilly Thomists)

"Gonna start my life again in a Chevrolet."  They're monks (Dominican friars) and they play bluegrass music. They have a new album out, Holy Ghost Power. Here is one of the new tracks, "Old Highway." 

 

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Saturday Haiku: Tree Frogs

 

winds rustle the trees
darkness brings lakeside stillness
tree frogs sing the night

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Photo by Tyler Burgener at Alabama Wildlife Federation

Copes gray tree frog flourishes in Alabama. It is easier to hear than to see due to its camouflage coloring and its size (1.25 to 2.5 inches)

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Pete Seeger Stamp

Tomorrow, July 21, the US Postal Service will make available a new stamp in honor of Pete Seeger.

Below is the description given at USPS.COM

Monday Music: Bob Dylan 80 - A Birthday Tribute

 A great concert with some of the best Dylan covers I have heard. 

"Billy Bob Productions and Spirited productions bring you the Montreal music scene's tribute to Rock 'n Roll Hall of fame, Nobel Prize and Grammy winning poet laureate, Bob Dylan on his 80th birthday." 

The producers indicate, "This video is not monetized and is meant solely as a tribute."

If you watch on the YouTube site, there is a list of songs and you can click on the one you want to hear if you don't have time for an entire concert. 

 

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Saturday Haiku: Summer Breeze

 cicada chorus
rising with the summer breeze
peaceful afternoon

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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Friday Funnies: Bastille Day!

Yesterday was Bastille Day. Here is a classic from The Muppet Show: Miss Piggy playing the part of Marie Antoinette, singing the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive." This is comic genius on at least two counts: 1) using the tumultuous times of the French Revolution as a setting for the song (notice the view of the guillotine from the window) and 2) the fact that Miss Piggy's vocal quality is very similar to that of the Gibb brothers on that number

 

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Remembering Mother Robyn Arnold

Rev. Robyn Arnold (Parish Photo)

Even though I arrived early, the small parking lot was already full and cars were lined up on the street. When I found a place to park, I had to walk a couple of blocks down to the church. The pews were filled as I and a handful of others entered the sanctuary and managed to find a seat. 

I was not surprised by the crowd. The Rev. Robyn Arnold, “Mother Robyn,” as she was known to the parish, had been a beacon of light in an impoverished neighborhood and a source of strength to a diverse and welcoming congregation. On this warm July morning, many came out to remember the remarkable life of a caring soul, gone too soon.

Grace Episcopal Church is an Anglo-Catholic parish, over 100 years old, located in the once-vibrant-now-declining community of Woodlawn. The needs of the community are great and Grace Church works to meet those needs with ministries that include a soup kitchen, a food pantry, a clothes closet, a warming station for the homeless in the winter, and a summer program for the children in the neighborhood. Known for its high liturgy on Sundays, Grace’s slogan is “Where Street and Altar Meet!”

Mother Robyn Arnold was an exemplary pastor to her parishioners and a source of hope to people in a transitional neighborhood. The church’s funeral announcement stated, “A soul filled with light and love, Mother Robyn Arnold changed Woodlawn, changed the world, changed the lives of so, so many. It is with great sadness, we announce her passing. May she forever remain in our hearts.” (Read her obituary here)

The eulogy by Deacon Kay Williams recounted Mother Robyn’s life from her childhood in rural Kentucky to a career as a Ph. D. environmental scientist to her transition to pastor and priest. 

In her memory, I am sharing my accounts from four of my encounters with Grace Church under Mother Robyn's ministry.  The first is from five years ago when during a low point in the world I made my way to Grace Episcopal Church for her pastoral guidance. That day she said, among other things, 

We must respond to hatred and injustice, but that response will differ with different people: some will respond publicly to oppose injustice, hate, and greed; others will respond more quietly to do small things in love right where they are.   ~ Rev. Robyn Arnold

You can read the full account at Grace in a Time of Hate.

In my essay, A Nurturing God, I found myself unusually moved at the close of the worship service with the post-Communion prayer. It was a prayer that called to mind the feminine aspects of God in a beautifully personal way.

Where Grace Abounds recounts my Advent experiences at Grace which included incense, the tolling of the bells, music, prayers, and thoughtful, heartfelt homilies delivered by the Reverend Robyn Arnold. I also share some of the parish’s rich history.

In Why Pray, I tell how a visit with my friends at Grace Episcopal Church, I was reminded once again of why we pray. I also recount how at an earlier time I discovered liturgical prayer at a time when I had been battered by circumstances and unsure of which way to turn.

These are just snapshots of the ministry she offered for ten years as rector of Grace Episcopal Church.

Grace Episcopal Church (website photo)

    

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Monday Music: Sunflower River Blues (John Fahey)

 Here's a fun instrumental from the guitar of John Fahey.

 

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Saturday Haiku: Katydids

I love hearing these creatures singing from the trees at night. Last week, one of them came down during the day for a closer visit.

katydids

sounding glad tidings

through the night

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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The High Museum of Art (Repost)

 One of the most viewed posts this month for some reason has been an account of my visit to Atlanta's High Museum of Art back in May of 2017, so I am posting it again today as I recall that fine day.

(Getty Images photo)

Last week my daughter and I took a trip to Atlanta to visit the High Museum of Art. My daughter is an artist and has toured the High on a few occasions, but this was my first visit. I suggested to her after one of her trips to Atlanta that one day we should go and that way she could give me a professional tour. That day finally came when after several months we both had a day off from work at the same time, so we headed off to Atlanta.

At the High Museum of Art, my daughter Elaine had some fascinating commentary about how artists work and how contemporary artists all work basically in tandem, being fully aware of one another's work, whereas the traditional artists in the past were more isolated. Some had knowledge of others' work, and most reflected a particular school or tradition in their work. (By the way, you can see my daughter's work at http://efkinnaird.wixsite.com/elainefarleykinnaird)

Today I am including three of the works that I was most impressed with:

Opening Day at Talladega College by Hale Woodruff

I was pleasantly surprised to see the exhibit "Rising Up: Hale Woodruff's Murals at Talladega College." I had read several years ago about the murals from Talladega College going on tour and thought it would be something I would like to see if I had the opportunity. With time, it departed from my radar, so I was happy to find the opportunity right there as I toured the museum. Apparently the murals have come to stay at the High after a multi-city tour. Woodruff was an Atlanta native and influential in the art scene. You can see more about the exhibit and view a brief video about its history and significance at  http://www.high.org/Art/Exhibitions/Rising-Up-Hale-Woodruff.

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The Mourners by Frederick Flemister

Georgia native Frederick C. Flemister  was one of the foremost artists to emerge from a group taught and influenced by Hale Woodruff who founded Atlanta University’s School of Art. "The Mourners" immediately caught my eye and drove home a powerful message in its portrayal of a lynching of a young black man in the same style as religious art depicting Christ's deposition from the cross.

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Hail Mary by Luc-Olivier Merson

I love the way that Luc-Olivier Merson uses a contemporary (to his day) French peasant scene to place the Madonna and child. It looks simply like a farmer tipping his hat to a lady as he is walking by. The title of the painting brought a surprise and a smile as I stood there admiring the work. There is a faint halo that the artist placed around the lady's head to show the viewer who the man is greeting. I love the juxtaposition and intermingling of time frames which to me gives "Hail Mary" a timeless quality. (Where might you meet Our Lady in the course of the day?)

Merson employed a similar combination in another painting of Mary and the Christ Child in "Rest on the Flight into Egypt." The combination there is not of time and place, but a convergence of myths. The artist represents the Virgin Mary and the infant Christ resting in the arms of the Sphinx. It is quite a beautiful and dramatic painting. That one is at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and you can see it at http://www.mfa.org/collections/object/rest-on-the-flight-into-egypt-31734

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One of the exhibits currently at the High is "Cross Country: The Power of Place in American Art" on display until May 7, 2017. The paintings, all holdings of the High Museum of art, were arranged according to geographic region. I found many inspiring pieces there, many of which I thought would work well with a haiku or other poetic form, so you can rest assured that you will see some of them referenced in future blog posts.


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Monday Music: American Tune (Simon & Garfunkel)

I have featured Paul Simon's "American Tune" a number of times on this blog. A song that is introspective, contemplative, and truly patriotic, I find it appropriate to listen to again on Independence Day. This is a time when we are faced with questions and challenges all about us.

Performed by Simon & Garfunkel at their reunion concert in Central Park in 1981, may this remind us of who we are, what we have been through, and who we hope to be.

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Saturday Haiku: Creature Companions

 creature companions
keeping us in touch with life
and its simple joys

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Artwork by Elaine Kinnaird

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