A Little Bumpy

JOSEPH JACKSON (BLACK LIKE COFFEE) 

Ok ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent today into Orlando, the air will be a little bumpy. Be sure you are in your seats, seat belts securely fastened, back of the seat straightened, and food trays secured. 

Hearing the announcement on a recent trip to celebrate my birthday, I thought about all the bumps, the turbulence, that our country has been going through, especially now.  Since its birth, there’s always been turbulence–trials, tribulations, and troubles that the country has had to descend into, to land in—to face. A short list bumps around my own brain: theft of territory from the Native Americans, abduction and enslavement of Africans, Civil War, Reconstruction, Jim Crow, lynchings, racism, militarism, poverty, terrorism… 

But the resiliency of the people has made it so that we all somehow continue to live beyond the bumps, the turbulence, and, most of the time, for the better. I know that my resiliency is fostered, encouraged, and strengthened by the words of the Apostle Paul in 2 Corinthians 4:7-9.  

We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed, perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed. 

I’ve been fortunate to have flown many times in my life and have faced turbulence of low, moderate, and high magnitude. Since I am writing this today, it is apparent that I’ve always made it through, shaken but safe. With time and experience, I’ve become more confident that the aircraft will make its landing safely, even smoothly at times.  In these turbulent times, with so many big bumps in the air—the threats of dismantling democracy, inciting Christian Nationalism, rejecting beloved community, attempting authoritarianism and fascism in governing–we can, we must, have faith that we will make it through. We will live beyond the turbulence and land safely, or as my late mother-in-law would say, “in a smooth way.”  We will overcome!  

In the middle of this turmoil and turbulence, you can probably hear my longing to remain calm.  Perhaps you also hear me grappling with what a difficult ask and task it is to do just that.  But we must calm down, be strategic, resistant, persistent, and insistent to overcome and outlast the storm. In the Christian tradition, Jesus speaks about calm in the midst of the storm. Do you remember in the Gospels how Jesus calmed a violent storm on the sea of Galilee? He rebuked the wind and calmed the sea.  That reminds me of the lyrics of a hymn written by an African American Pastor, Charles Albert Tindly (When the Storms of Life are Raging). Those lyrics sure help me calm down:  when the storms of life are raging/ stand by me/Thou who rulest wind and water/stand by me.

As the airplane descended through the turbulence into Orlando, I took a moment to notice that I was not alone on that plane, and that I had an opportunity to consider these strangers that surrounded me a beloved community of fellow travelers, all, like me, returning to their seats and fastening their seatbelts in hopes of a safe landing. As we live through these turbulent times, let’s try to look around and remember that we are not alone and to stand with and for each other. To look around and see not the enemy, but the friend, not someone different from me, but the same—someone that I want to care for. We need each other to live beyond turbulence. You need me, and I need you.  I will do my best to be there for you and pray that you will be here for me. I recently read and reflected, and certainly invite you to do the same, on the famous quote from the White Lutheran Pastor in Nazi Germany, Martin Niemoller: 

First 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 I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me. 

And here is my version, from the Black Baptist Minister in 2026 America, Joseph Jackson: 

First, they came for the Haitians, and I did not speak out because I was not Haitian. Then they came for the Somalians, and I did not speak out because I was not Somalian. They came for the Latinos/Hispanics, and I did not speak out because I was not Latino/Hispanic. They came for the Native Americans, and I did not speak out because I was not Native American. They came for the Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs, and more.  I did not speak out because I was none of them. Then they came for me, and no one was left out to speak for me. 

HEATHER LEE (WHITE LIKE CREAM) 

My birthday is coming up next week (Joe and I like to celebrate our Birthdays—we even wrote a blog about them a few years back), and my parents reached out to me to inquire about what sort of birthday gift I was wishing for. I pondered for a moment and responded, “peace on earth, please.” My dad responded right away saying, “you asked for that at Christmas too.” I keep asking.  

Not too long after this exchange, I received a note from Joe Jackson letting me know that he was sending me some writing to reflect on and respond to for our blog—something about turbulence on the airplane and life beyond the bumps. After reading his reflection, it seems to me that Joe is asking for the same thing as I am—just peace on earth, please. And just like my dad reminded me, I just gotta just keep asking for it, longing for it, making it what I most want, because the storms have been raging from the beginning—it’s been a bumpy ride all along.  

Joe’s mind went as far back as the birth of USA, and he crafted quite a short list of bumps in the last 250 years of time. It brought to mind the song, We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel—do you know the lyrics?  We didn’t start the fire; it was always burning since the world’s been turning. Billy Joel sings a mouthful of bumps in every verse, not only bumps in the US, but the world at large.  

Hemingway, Eichmann, Stranger in a Strange Land, Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion. Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatlemania Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson, Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British politician sex, JFK, blown away, what else do I have to say? 

Interestingly, I was just talking with my daughter, who is in her 20’s, about this reflection, and she pointed out to me that the song has been updated by Fallout Boy with the next-generation’s laundry list of bumps from 1989-2023.   

Sandy Hook, Columbine, Sandra Bland and Tamir Rice, ISIS, LeBron James, Shinzō Abe blown away, Meghan Markle, George Floyd, Burj Khalifa, Metroid, Fermi paradox, Venus and Serena, Michael Jordan, 23, YouTube killed MTV, SpongeBob, Golden State Killer got caught, Michael Jordan, 45, Woodstock ’99 Keaton, Batman, Bush v. Gore, I can’t take it anymore

So very many flames. Always burning. We didn’t light it, but we try to fight it! 

Now that this classic song is firmly planted in my ear, let’s push the list out beyond 250 years. I don’t know how many of you are familiar with Cynthia Burgeault. She is a Priest and Wisdom teacher that has inspired my spiritual growth for years. Here is a link to some of her recent  writings where she invites readers to reflect on time–on decades and centuries (where Joe Jackson’s and Billy Joel’s and Fallout Boy’s lists of bumps and flames—and most of ours’s–reside); on cultural epochs or millennia; and even on geological time, which is in tens of thousands, even millions, of years. When I am asked to consider the bumps in my life from these perspectives, I have to do what the pilot of plane reminds Joe to do–be sure the back of the seat is straightened and the seat belt is securely fastened–because honestly, the smoothing of the turbulence from this lens invites a great calm that shakes me (love that paradox).  

Ah, the great calm, found in the words of that Gospel story that Joe mentions.  Jesus is sleeping through a storm in the boat (maybe the airplane of the times) with his travel companions who are terrified of the waves and bumps, fearing their own death, and, upon being awoken, ushers in a great, great calm. I mean, just read it yourself.   

When Jesus got into the boat, his disciples went with him. Suddenly, a violent storm came up on the sea, so that the boat began to be swamped by the waves. Yet Jesus kept sleeping. They went to him and woke him up. “Lord!” they cried, “Save us! We’re going to die!” He asked them, “Why are you afraid, you who have little faith?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. (Matthew 8:23-26)   

I have been pondering this passage and wondering if we can only have a little faith. Can I remember that God is resting here within me and with all of us? When I lose faith in the storm, can I be assured that I just need to turn to God with my fear so that I can receive the great calm through his awakening within me? It happens over and over again in life—we make it through, as Joe says, shaken but safe. And this process of returning to God fits nicely with—and is the invitation of—Lent, the season of the church we are in. We can return—just say, “oh yeah, God has been here all along, what am I getting so worked up about? Calm down”.  

So, I guess the gift of peace that I keep asking for has already been given.  My work is to stay connected to it, to return to it, over and over, so that I can respond from that gift and be a person that carries the great calm to others, to others who are afraid—just like Joe concludes, to do my best to be there for you and pray that you will be here for me.  

SUGAR (THE SWEET ONENESS OF GOD) 

This past Monday, Joe and I sat down for a cup of coffee together. We acknowledged that, yet again, our birthdays were over. We fastened our seatbelts and decided on a little extra cream and sugar given all the new bumps we had to add to our lists in the short time it has been since each of us put pen to paper with the reflections above. Yes, the USA is now at war. Military planes with young men and women are not landing safely.  Joe shared several stories of violence in our city where he has been called to personally minister to those most directly impacted, and I shared a few stories of friends and family facing terminal illnesses and other losses. Bumps, bumps, bumps. Bumps, bumps, bumps. 

It’s now Sunday morning here in Milwaukee, and there is a big winter snowstorm blowing in. Honestly, given the drama and fear that seems to even precede the storms that blow through, you would think that the media and community leaders at large take lessons in panic from those disciples in the boat.  

As Joe and I read our reflections to each other, we opened those Benedictine ears of our hearts to ask God to show us the oneness in our words and experiences and to taste the sweetness. We were drawn deeply to our shared longing to remain calm—to not fuel the fire that’s been burning since the world’s been turning; to not panic; to not be overwhelmed or exasperated—and to extend that calm to others. So, with that longing, we turned our listening hearts to the how…how does God show us, remind us, invite us…to stay connected, to really know and experience, the great calm. 

We were not surprised to find the usual sweet suspects–Scripture, Song, and Silence. Can we share them with you? 

Scripture
Since it’s Sunday morning, let’s start with Scripture. We recognized the centrality of the Gospel story of Jesus calming the sea as a unifier, and we also noticed Paul’s encouragement to Joe from the second letter to the Corinthians: We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed, perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed. Paul ended up weaving his letters into our conversations in so many sweet ways. Here are a few for you: 

• • In his letter to the Philippians, Paul writes about a peace that surpasses understanding. Is this not another expression for the great calm? Can we take in and accept that the calm is beyond our understanding? We do not need to understand, in fact, we cannot understand. Can we set aside all our efforts at making sense of it, and might this relinquishment of control invite a great calm, a great calm that gives us the power to love and care for others? 
  • In his letter to the Galatians, Paul offered us assurance as we reflected on Pastor Joe Jackson’s and Pastor Niemoller’s quotes about speaking up for each other. Paul reminds us that there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for we are all one. These divisions that our world invents are simply not real. 
  •  And furthermore, Paul reminded us in his letter to the Romans that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.

Can we hear an Amen! 

Song
And… again, since it’s Sunday morning, how about some sweet, sweet Gospel songs. Today we are truly inviting you to actually stop and listen to the music. Listen for a lyric or a melody that just may speak to your heart in a way that ushers you into the calm that you need or graces you with what Joe’s Associate Minister, Michael, calls the “sweet shiver of the Spirit.”  Here are a few that did that for us as we listened (and the lyrics we smiled at for their sweet oneness with our message): 

One More Sunny Day  you spoke to the clouds and they all passed away, you spoke to the wind and the four winds stood still, you spoke to the billows and they all obeyed…I got one more sunny day.  

He is Sweet I Know  dark clouds may rise and strong winds may blow, but I can tell the world wherever I may go that I have found a savor and he’s sweet I know. 

 Let there be Peace on Earth Take each moment and live each moment in peace eternally. Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me. 

Maybe confession that this isn’t actually a song, but a poem. But what is a song but a poem to music? This is one of our recent favorites by Mary Oliver that opens, Sweet Jesus and ends tender and luminous and demanding as he always was —a thousand times more frightening than the killer sea. 

Silence
Joe and I will leave you here and invite you into a contemplative silence–a daily practice that we both know is what bears the fruits of a great calm in the rest of our lives and helps our hearts connect to each other and to God. I mentioned Cynthia Burgeault’s writing earlier, and this quote from her most recent post offers us encouragement in our practice of quiet (and of course, there is Paul again—and a note of song). 

I can strive with all my heart to seed into the future my highest understanding of what it means to “be made in the image and likeness of God”; to hold the highest note I can hold as a human being. I can quietly commit my life to the inner work of catalyzing within myself those higher spiritual substances through which this world is ultimately transformed—love, joy, forbearance, kindness, gentleness, self-control; “the fruit of the spirit,” as St Paul called them. These are not organic substances; they do not come naturally to the human animal; they are produced only through the conscious alchemy of the human heart.  

Joe’s daily practice of quiet always begins with this prayer as he lights his candle and settles in with the aroma of coffee with cream and sugar. May it bless you too.  

Burning light of God. Sweet Aroma of Christ. Abiding Presence of the Holy Spirit. 

Please share with us how, in the midst of the bumps, you stay connected to the great calm. 

 Peace 

 Heather and Joe