Memories rise,
unexpected, unbidden:
haunted, haunting specters
from days before.
Ancient pains recur;
old wounds ache, ooze;
what was, and what was not,
pierces the heart.
Old patterns emerge,
crystallize, gain strength,
seeking to shape behavior
yet again.
Old habits appear,
shatter new resolutions
with ease,
reasserting former ways.
All occur as we
cross the threshold
of once-lived places,
reentering the past.
28 August 2014
Cleveland Heights, OH
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Poem
The facade cracks,
slowly falls away.
The truth,
only the truth,
painful, wrenching truth
remains.
Naked, vulnerable,
do we
retreat to old pretenses,
erect new falsehoods,
renew delusions?
Or do we dare
open ourselves to
resurrection,
new creation?
28 August 2014
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Poem
Thoughts of home have filled my last few days.
Or perhaps I should say thoughts about the many homes I know.
A video showing clips of movies filmed in Pittsburgh and a photo posted by my friend Mihee Kim-Kort about her family’s recent road trip, reminded me of the home where I grew: Neville Island.
I realized that no matter how much I like New York, where I now live; no matter how much I like Louisville where I spent ten years and where I make many trips for work; no matter how much I like Cleveland Heights where Tricia lives now and we raised our family; no matter how much, and most days how much means a great deal, I will always, always, always bleed black and gold.
But this week also saw our ministry host a group from First Presbyterian Church of Albuquerque, New Mexico. And in our conversations I found myself longing for Ghost Ranch and Northern New Mexico, the home of my soul, the place where, every time I visit, I know I belong in a way like I belong in no other place on the planet.
Home of my childhood.
Home of my family.
Home of transition.
Home of the present.
Home of my soul.
All precious places. All blur together.
I give thanks for my homes and I pray and work for the day when all people have a safe place to call home.
See you along the Trail.
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Family, Louisville, New York
I have taken, in my moments of self-care, to walking in support of causes important to me or to my friends. Tonight I do so again. I will walk from 7:00 pm to 7:30 pm in memory of Jim Brennan and in solidarity with all survivors and victims of gun violence, many of whose stories are not told.
As you may have heard, the owner of Brennan’s Colony, Jim Brennan, was killed yesterday afternoon in a shooting in Cleveland Heights. Mr. Brennan was a well respected businessman and community leader, and his establishment is a fixture on Lee Rd.A prayer walk will begin at 7:00 p.m. this evening at the location of Brennan’s, corner of Lee and Silsby in Cleveland Heights. We will walk from there to Church of the Saviour for a prayer vigil that begins at 7:30 p.m.You are welcome to join the Cleveland InterFaith community in this event. We also invite you to spread the word.
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Current Events
I have posted several times about my friend and mentor Merdine T. Morris. At her memorial service on April 12, I saw a photo of Merdine T. with her husband, Lucas. Luke. During the memorial service, Merdine T.’s friends and colleagues and pastors witnessed to her deep commitment to justice and peace and the countless ways she lived out those commitments.
Listening, I recalled the photo and remembered how Luke made Merdine T.’s witness possible. He stood with her, prayed for her, provided transportation for her. Luke was the good, good man who stood beside this good, good woman.
It seems only right to post a reflection about Luke. I wrote this for his memorial service.
Lucas Morris revealed hope. In a world so horribly obsessed with race, any crossing of the racial divide is an act of grace. As he lived, Luke endured the shifting and unchanging reality of being black in America where privilege is given to those who are white. He was wounded. But he was never broken. He was not embittered. He played a key role in helping to create the special relationship between St. Mark’s Presbyterian Church and Noble Road Presbyterian Church. And when the time came, he was willing – he and Merdine T. chose – to have white pastors. Amazing grace. What a gift of hope. If we refuse to give up, if we refuse to give in, if we keep on loving, maybe we can heal prejudices and remake systems and come together to live as God intends.
Lucas Morris revealed courage. Frustration filled his recent years. Illness touched him and it never let go. Every time he made even the smallest step toward recovery, something went wrong and he took two or three or ten steps back. Again and again and again my heart broke for him. My heart broke for Merdine T. But none of it neither the pain nor the procedures – neither the losses nor the limitations – none of it broke his spirit. His contagious smile – his ready laugh – his concern for others – it all remained and shone through on even his worse days. Our character is revealed not in times of ease but in moments of distress. Luke was strong and true.
Lucas Morris revealed love. He had deep, abiding love for Merdine T. and for his family. He had deep, abiding love for his friends. He had concern for all of God’s children. When visited, Luke would ask about Merdine T., about his friends, about my family, about others in the church in need. You may say it was a ritual. You may say it was a way of shifting the focus from his own situation. I know it was expressed his depth of feeling and caring.
Lucas Morris and I laughed together. We cried together. We prayed together. We agonized over the fortunes of Cleveland’s baseball team. That one year when Cleveland had no football team, we even followed the Pittsburgh Steelers together. With Merdine T. and Sean and Eric we shared the body and blood of Christ as well as ice cream and brownies. And one special morning when Merdine T. was in the hospital, Luke and I delighted in a high-class breakfast of Egg McMuffins.
I thank God for the gift of Lucas Morris. I thank God for the honor and privilege of being Luke’s friend. I thank God that for Luke all pain is past and he is received into the warmth and wonder of God’s love. I thank God that within that mysterious reality of the Communion of Saints Luke goes with me, goes with us, now and always. Amen.
See you along the Trail.
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Friends
Some messages should be delivered in person and not left in a voice mail box or sent by email.
Some times we have no choice but to leave such messages.
Tricia left one for me today.
“Sorry to have to leave a voice mail. I need to leave. But I just got an email that Merdine T. died last night. And I wanted you to know.”
Some realities cannot be expressed adequately in words. They simply have too much meaning.
My relationship with Merdine T. Morris is such a reality. She was one of the most significant people in my life outside of my family. She helped make me who I am today – at least any part of me that is good and kind and faithful. I take full responsibility for my failings and shortcomings.
While I have been gone from Cleveland for almost 14 years, while the times that Merdine T. and I saw each other on a regular basis occurred long ago, while her health has declined and I knew this moment was coming, while I am a great believer in the Communion of Saints, I have to confess my heart bears a ragged hole this evening. I miss Merdine T. immensely. And I probably always will.
Merdine T. and I were friends for more than 20 years. Friend really does not do our relationship justice, she is my mentor, teacher, challenger, comforter, disturber of my peace, guide, anchor . . . the list goes on. She and her husband Luke played and will play significant roles in my life. Luke passed away some 12 years ago, not too long after I left Cleveland.
Merdine T. and I have shared some amazing moments . . . conversations . . . experiences . . . times of learning and growth . . . disappointments . . . violations . . . injustices . . . ordinations . . . presbytery meetings (incredible to say, I know) . . . graduations . . . transitions . . . acts of justice . . . moments of witness.
If you want to hear some amazing stories about a child of grace and a faithful follower of Jesus, buy me a Jameson and ask me about Merdine T. some time.
Merdine T.’s health began to fail some years back. As she became increasingly fragile, I began to wonder each time I saw her if that time would be the last time.
And finally it was.
This past December, our mutual friend Nan Dorer celebrated her 90th birthday today with a party at Noble Road Presbyterian Church. Tricia and I took Merdine T. to the party.
The day was wonderful. Friends old and young, long-time and new, greeted Merdine T. warmly. Her presence meant the world to Nan. We stayed for the children’s program and carol singing. Merdine T. beamed. When we returned to the Fairmount Health Center, staff members commented on the joy that filled her face. A wonderful day.
In her room, as Tricia and I were leaving, Merdine T. reached up from her chair and hugged me. Tears filled her eyes. And she said the words. The words she said to me every time we said goodbye over the past five or six years.
“Mark. Never forget me.”
Tonight, through my tears, I reply as I always did.
“Never, Merdine T. Never.”
As I grieve my loss, I give thanks that I had the privilege of sharing life with God’s beloved child, Merdine T. Morris.
See you along the Trail.
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Friends
“We are going to walk across the country as part of a witness for nuclear disarmament.”
I am sure those were not the first words that Dick or Cathie Wherley said to me. They are among the first I remember.
Tricia and I arrived at Noble Road Presbyterian Church in Cleveland Heights as co-pastors in the fall of 1985. Dick and Cathie served on the Session – the church governing board.
Sometime that winter, they announced their resignations so that they could take part in the Great Peace March for Global Nuclear Disarmament.
Their faith led them to work for peace in many ways and many places. Seeking racial justice in Cleveland Heights. Working to end gun violence in Cleveland. Advocating for sanctuary for their sisters and brothers fleeing war in Central America. Calling for an end to U.S. arms sales.
Now their faith called them to make another witness for life, the life of the planet. With about 1,200 people they set out from Los Angeles for Washington, DC around March 1. About two weeks into the march, the marchers learned that the supporting organization had declared bankruptcy. The marchers gathered, pondered, thought, dreamed, and planned. On March 28, a smaller group, including Dick and Cathie, started out again.
Dick often drove a support vehicle because of his health. But he and Cathie and the GPM made it to DC. When the march came through Cleveland, about 30 Noble Road members marched with them. A dozen of us went to Washington for the end of the march.
Upon returning to Cleveland Dick and Cathie plunged back into the life of the congregation, the community, and the peace and justice movement. Transitional housing and the inclusion of our LGBT sisters and brothers in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) became two areas of particular concern.
The simple reality though, was if people in Cleveland gathered to act in compassion, pursue peace, and do justice, Dick and Cathie were present more often than not.
Dick’s health continue to falter through the years. He appeared in person less often and in the spirit more regularly. His spirit remained strong and true.
This week, Dick died peacefully in his sleep.
My prayers are with Cathie and her children, Joanne, Rick, Tom, and Sandy and their partners and children. May their memories be blessed; may they find comfort in their grief; may the rejoice in love shared and love that binds them together still.
Frodo Baggins, in The Fellowship of the Ring, expresses a wish to have been born at another time, a gentler, kinder, less-troubled time.
Gandalf reminds him that none of us choose the times in which we live. “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us,” the wizard gently says.
Dick Wherley decided what to do with the time he had. Dick chose life. He chose faith. He chose love, peace, and justice. And he lived his choices well.
Thanks be to God.
See you along the Trail.
Filed under Cleveland Heights, Friends
24 December 2013
Forest Hills Church (Presbyterian) Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Filed under Advent, Cleveland Heights, Photo
7 April 2007
Noble Road Presbyterian Church
Cleveland Heights, Ohio
Filed under Advent, Cleveland Heights, Friends, Photo
Along the Graybeard Trail 