Author: willishmoore (Page 9 of 31)

Boy Scouts of America was established February 8, 1910, based on the leadership of British military veteran, William Boyce. The organization has undergone numerous iterations and imitations. The latest version, as of May 2024, the Boy Scouts of America announced that it would be rebranding as Scouting America. This designation includes troops for boys and troops for girls. Another big change in this version is that girls can now earn Eagle Scout.

The Scouting program at my church, Embry Hills United Methodist, is flush with Scouting; Troop 15 for boys, Troop 2115 for girls, as well as Cub Scout Packs and Dens. The calendar is full of meeting times. For over fifty years the church sponsored an awesome annual BBQ. A “perfect storm” — capped by the 2020 Pandemic brought it to a screeching halt. Now with the enthusiasm of a renewed (and expanded) Scouting ministry a bright future is glowing.

I am not drumming up business for the BBQ—by the time you read this, it will be too late to sign up for this BBQ. My point is that it is very interesting that a staid, sobersided organization like Scouting can be resilient and thrive, adapting to the living of these days—while staying the course on building character, life-skills, and the joyful pursuit of ethical accomplishment. It way past time that girls should be able to earn the Eagle Scout designation! Learning to cook, make clothes, plan parties, etc. are skills indeed, they are not limited to one gender. Nor are skills like map reading, building rope ladders, and othe Merit Badge rungs in the ladder to Eagle limited to one gender.

When I was a Campus Minister at GSU, dormitories were still single residents. Nation-wide th antie in loco parentis (Latin for “in the place of a parent”) movement was going strong. Basically it was saying—we are adults and should be able to live as adults. While dormitories were single-gender residences, friends the same age as the students living and working already could live where they wanted.

We have come a long way in clearing the way for all young people to persue goals and accomplish dreams regardless of their gender. Scouting America took a major step in opening doors and expanding opportunities for our youth. Having accompanied a family member through the years of earning Eagle Scout, I can say with great Joy, “You Go Girls! The door is flung wide open! (Sign up for Scouting this Fall, if you havent’s already!)”

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

The term “thin place” is a Celtic Christian concept referring to a location or moment where the distance between Heaven and Earth seems to collapse. In these places, the veil between the world and the spiritual realm is said to diminish, making it easier to connect with God and feel His presence. Thin places can be physical locations, such as traditionally religious sites, or they can be mindful, unhurried moments. (Copied.)

My thin place tends to be a book. Not a specific Book, but a book whose author speaks deeply to my soul; Henri Nouwen, Thomas Merton, Dallas Willard, Richard Foster, the Psalmist—to name a few. When the printed word effuses deep thoughts, or sends me into a considerable thought-room my spirit becomes sublimely ruminant—sometimes stills. I think the Celts got it right. The thin place is solace for the human spirit. Today’s culture-pressures tend to deprive us of that treasure.

Our culture today insinuates its noise into our very soul: In the ubiquitous visual medium—each view three seconds long—or fewer, the camera switches to another angle, input, or view—90% of the time; it imbeds an inner attention clock that infects our mental state. It has become a cultural acclimation pacing our attention to a 3-second grasp— resulting in that 3-second-attention focus.

Commerce relishes focus-flurry, pulling our attention the direction of its own choosing. Scent is another powerful memory flash back. Personally, I am glad “Smell-a-Vision,” never caught on (not as of yet). In 1960 movie producer, Mike Todd introduced the use of smells related to on-screen-action. It did not catch on. Then. Hopefully, never; although various attractions tried.

Milledgeville, GA writer, the late Flannary O’Connor, created a physical place to host her thin place; in her own room she turned a tall chifforobe toward the wall—then turned her desk to face the back of it—a kind of cloistered writing space apart from interruption. To each your own. Some people find their thin place hiking alone or on a spiritual pilgrimage. Last year Melanie, my daughter, made the Mary Magdalene Pilgrimage in Province, France. It became a thin place for her with deep meaning. Others were there, but it was her own thin place. Do you have your thin place?

Jesus understood how distractions can mess up your mind. He taught his followers by example and saying so. He said, take some time away form all the hubbub around you. Go where you can have a quiet mind and let your thoughts and concentration have free-range. You can be inspired a lot that way. (RWV The Revised Willis Version.) Your thin place is your own. It is unique to you.

As my friends know, my favorite ancient mentor is Brother Lawrence, a 17th century a brother in the Carmelite Order of monks. He is better known for his writings about “The Practice of the Presence of God”—-he could experience the Presence of God as well while scrubbing pots and pans in the galley or, as he said, “…in receiving the Blessed Sacrament”—either was his thin place. So there you go; your thin place need not always to be in isolation, or quiet, or cloistered. I think a mother holding her tiny infant, can be in such a thin place.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

Trust can collapse instantly—on almost any level—personal, business, or other relationships. Holly Andraes, writing in the Harvard Business Review said, Trust is the basis for almost everything we do. It’s the foundation on which our laws and contracts are built. It’s the reason we’re willing to exchange our hard-earned paychecks for goods and services, to pledge our lives to another person in marriage, and to cast a ballot for someone who will represent our interests. Trust is the glue that holds civilization together.

We trust that our paycheck deposited in the bank will yield our money when we claim it. We trust that when we fill our gas tank actual gas is flowing in and not buttermilk. We tend to trust the “tried and true.” There is an old Russian proverb, “Trust, but verify.” Russian scholar Suzanne Massie, taught this proverb to President Ronald Regan—who used it enough that it became something of an American watchword. For example, intuitively we use this adage daily related to our traffic laws. We trust that oncoming drivers will keep in their traffic lane–as the distance between our vehicles closes at 80 to 140 mph—but we check—as we maintain situation awareness.

When trust crumbles, or is only threatened, creditability is damaged if not destroyed. Losing trust in an invested relationship is devastating, and restoration could be nearly impossible. In reality, we human beings are flawed; while there is good in everyone of us, it is also true that each of us is imperfect. Our flaws are (or can be) meliorated with kindness, forgiveness, and compassion—and are ways to allow growing a solid relationship. Rebuilding trust takes intentional, intensive work on the part of each party.

Want to Know If Someone Is Trustworthy? Look for These 15 Signs—wrote Wanda Thibodeaux, in an article for INC magazine. Here are a few of my favorites from her list; They are consistent. They compromise and don’t expect something for nothing. They’re right a lot. You know who they’re connected to, and they try to connect you. I believe these points go far in letting your “gut-feeling” guide you to build trust. It takes will. It takes time. It takes attention. But a strong relationship of trust is worth it.

One of my favorite stories of transformation to trust is that of Saul of Tarsus. This man not only hated Christians, but also contrived to imprison or kill them. Following Saul’s dramatic change of heart it took nearly all fifteen of Wanda Thibodeaux’s Trustworthy signs to convince the fledgling home-churches that Saul—Now Paul—was the real deal. Broken trust not only can be restored, it can also become foundational. From the tutelage of an important Jewish lawyer, Gamaliel, and testimony of a Roman Centurion, Paul’ s credibility was established—as well as given powerful influence. In a word, Trust was established.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

Back to School has hit Metro Atlanta smack in Summer’s middle! We are still clinging to the tail of July, for Heaven’s sake!—some classrooms are already filling, and others will in a few short days. Where did that dear ole three-month-Summer-vacation-time go?! Time passes pretty fast, but it seems to be on steroids during fun times.

Teachers have populated my family all my life. Grandmother Jewel (Moore) taught school in Gwinnett County for “a million years”—and loved it. My grandmother (Veal) taught Sunday School; my late wife, Paige taught in elementary school for over three decades. My daughter, Jennifer, with whom I now live, has been a teacher for years. Actually, Melanie, my other daughter and I, both have degrees in Education. “Student teaching” to meet degree requirements, is as close as we came to being employed as teachers. However, I did some substitute teaching in a high school—several times. All this to say, I have deep respect, appreciation, and love for teachers. There is also something of an inner warmth seeing great lines of yellow school busses rolling out as school begins.

When my high school class had its 50th reunion, my teacher (English, History, Journalism, etc.) attended. I made it a point to visit with her and apologize to her about my classroom behavior—I know I was a pain in the butt. She was gracious—still I tried to let her know how much she had meant in the building blocks of my life and Calling. Looking back, I wish I would have thanked other teachers who meant so much to me.

Paige had a little informal “agreement” with parents of her elementary school students: “I won’t believe everything your child tells me about home, if you won’t believe everything your child tells you about school.” It worked pretty good. On a related matter, so many funny things came up in the classroom Paige said she could write a book about them. Many are hilarious, and some should not be put in print.

Back to school is a big deal whatever the student’s age, or whether it is your first or last child to head off to school; Every child is precious. Every child needs love and support. Sometimes that is hard for a parent. For example; just as your child is—a little late— headed to bed and tells you, “Oh! I forgot. My class is going ot a field trip tomorrow morning. I need to take my lunch and bottled water.” However that’s not quite as bad as before “allergy threats” when your child might say just before bedtime, “I’m supposed to take 30 chocolate covered cup cakes to class in the morning!”

Oh those dear children—Grrrr. But—love them anyway! The days pass away so quickly. You have far more influence than you realize—that includes your children, your neighbors, and anyone in your sphere. The song, Teach your Children, (You may skip the Ad) by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young includes a reminder of how quickly the this moment passes–You, who are on the road /Must have a code /you try to live by /And so become yourself /Because the past is just a goodbye.

©Copyright 2024 Willis H. Moore

Summertime has more meanings than than Van Camp™ has Pork ‘n Beans. For many of us summertime is a time of Guilty Pleasure; timepieces tossed aside, schedules abandoned, diets forgotten—you name it. A Guilty Pleasure for me is home-churned-fresh-peach-Ice cream!

I remember from childhood the labor of love—hand-cranking an ice cream churn in its cedar bucket full of cracked ice, rock-salt, a metal churn—the dasher twirling inside. We churned—at home, at church, at Fourth of July—any occasion—or non-occasion to produce that delicious frozen delectation! When Paige and I had children, early on we introduced them to homemade ice cream. Turning a hand-crank-churn for 25 or so minutes was not their kind of joy, but they soldered on for the prize—delicious homemade ice cream of any flavor—vanilla, strawberry, chocolate, and—in season—-peach!

Jennifer and I just got back from vacation; on the way through Peach County, we stopped at a peach orchard-market for delicious Georgia peaches. Once at home, we began to gather ingredients necessary to make a churn of peach ice cream. Following her mother’s famous homemade ice cream recipe, Jennifer discovered one essential ingredient missing; We searched locally for two days, and I found it. (bought 4 boxes, just in case we want to do this again soon). We put our skills together—using Paige’s recipe—and put the churn to work. Twenty four minutes later we opened that churn of homemade—fresh-peach-ice cream!

I must confess; her kids now grown, find less excitement in this experience. Our memories and fascination do not appeal to them. So full disclosure, We did not hand crank this churn. For decades Paige and I used a hand-cranked (White Mountain™ ) churn. I always spurned any electric ice cream churn—“they are wimps, yielding soupy ice cream,” I said.—-Until—-Al Coltrane brought his electric White Mountain™ churn to an ice cream party at our house. To myself, I sniffed, “Yet another soupy churn of ice cream.” To my astonishment, the ice cream was so hard the dasher had to be removed by brute force. So, today, with our White Mountain™ electric ice cream freezer —-which has now been in use for a few years—Jennifer truckled to her dear old dad—and together we made homemade fresh peach ice cream. I would invite you over, but I am more than confident it will be gone before you read this.

I was thinking; I had been quite persnickety in my belief that no electric ice cream freezer could ever measure up to the old hand-crank-turn-till-you-can’t. Fortunately, Al saved me from missing out out on a valuable tool for my guilty pleasure. I am reminded of how the Apostle Paul remonstrated the Church at Rome about their high-and-mighty attitude: Don’t cherish exaggerated ideas of yourself or your importance.  but try to have a sane estimate of your capabilities by the light of the faith that God has given to you all. There is joy in the company of friends; there is greater joy when love, laughter, and leeway is abundant.

©Copyrithe 2024 Willis H. Moore

A third place refers to a location outside of the home (first place); according to Katherine Varrell, writer for The Massachusetts Daily Collegian. She says, the workplace/school (second place) that enhances one’s community. Third places are a key component in building a community and support system, yet they seem to be vanishing.

Most recently, when COVID-19 Pandemic of 2020 crashed the planet into upheaval—-it essentially created an epidemic of loneliness in the process; everything changed—-businesses, schools, churches, travel—jobs were held in suspended animation. We couldn’t visit, work, play, travel, nothing face-to-face. Certainly there were workarounds for essentials—using extreme cautions. Still, millions of people died, and untold others suffered radical hits.

We have not entirely recovered from the loneliness epidemic—it is worse than we realize; it need not be fatal. Rebekah Brandes, a writer for Nice News, points out how important it is to have a “Third Place.” Which—is sorely needed—maybe even more since the Pandemic. She points out that most people live in two places; home and work. We work so we can have a place to live. We live in order to get to work. That’s my much over simplified account. That Third Place she writes of is that regular place in addition to home, where you can relax, feel free to be me, to bask in enjoyment.

Sociologist Ray Oldenburg described third places as informal and accessible public settings that promote conversation and relaxation — like parks, coffee shops, hair salons, gyms, libraries, churches, and even virtual spaces. In light of wide spread loneliness, a third place can be as vital as rest, diet, water, and breath. I list breath as a life-giving sustenance—something like avoiding the threat suffocation. We need home as our secure source, and we need work for livelihood and productivity; we need The Third Place as we nerve and express our existential essence.

We human beings were created to be social. When God created the world, human companionship was as vital as breath. James Weldon Johnson expressed this wonderfully in his poem, Creation. After God created the world and its creatures…

…He looked on his world
With all its living things,
And God said: I’m lonely still.

Then God sat down—
On the side of a hill where he could think;
By a deep, wide river he sat down;
With his head in his hands,
God thought and thought,
Till he thought: I’ll make me a man.

Gene McDaniels also emphasized the human need for social contact, as he wrote A Hundred Pounds of Clay.. as he spoke of God creating Woman; With just a hundred pounds of clay He made my life worth livin’ And I will thank Him every day. Jessica Finlay, an assistant professor in the Institute of Behavioral Science wrote; Studies have shown that just having a diversity of folks in your life … more informal and infrequent and unplanned, can be really protective for health and well-being.

Dear Reader, you probably remember the theme song from the comedy, Cheers’ of the 1980s—Where Everybody Knows My Name. It underscores our human need for a Third Place. Kathy Giuffre, a professor at Colorado College who studies third places, told The Atlantic in 2022—Socializing is a learned skill, but the last time we learned it we were probably little kids…so be kind to yourself, because you might be out of practice.

Jesus had his own Third Place-—Bethany. Mary, Martha, and Lazarus always welcomed him there. In times of stress or being overworked, he returned to Bethany where he unwearied.

I hope you have a Third Place, where you go to be unwearied.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

The month of June has been “transition” time for Methodist for decades; I do not know the precise time this practice began, but for most Methodists, following the 1938 merger—the Methodist Protestant denomination, the Methodist Episcopal Church, and the Methodist Episcopal Church South became “The Methodist Church,” the practice was in place. Annual Conferences throughout the denomination announced appointments of pastors—and later gravitated to the month of June. Pastors receive their annual assignments at Annual Conference; Some remain the same as last year, some go to a new assignment.

As I write this the North Georgia United Methodist pastors have arrived at—or returned to—their Appointments for the 2024-2025 Conference year. Although a pastoral appointment is for only one year, most pastors are reassigned; United Methodists call this the itinerant system. In the early days of Methodism pastors “rode the circuit” traveling from one church to another—-mostly on horseback. Times, transportation, technology, and—temperaments (one way to say it) have changed. But pastors and their families moving from one place to another—-in different patterns—remain. And in Georgia, June is the month of moves.

As July finds all United Methodist pastors in place, there is a sense of settling into something like—normal. Normal is not an accurate description; having moved to nine (9) different assignments over fifty years of service, I can say with a certain degree of authority, every day is new. They flesh out Yin-yang, Encyclopedia Britannica explains-–in Eastern thought, the two complementary forces that make up all aspects and phenomena of life. Or in a less elegant turn of phrase, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly—it is my contention that we tend to make it what we want it to be.

The toughest assignment I had was early on and projected to me to be “A great opportunity.” It took a couple of decades of maturity and experience for me to discover it was just that, a great opportunity—and would have been even better if I had “put on my big boy britches,” and viewed it differently. As Norman Vincent Peale said, look for fine sunsets instead of puddles (the basis of a sermon he preached—and I came to lean upon heavily).

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

Summer arrived here yesterday (06/20/24) at 4:01 p. m. (per NWS). I’ve already been seeing vehicles—large and small—heading out of town with all sorts of camping gear towed, or stowed on top, as they whiz by. I identify with them. I grew up on a farm (basically out in the woods) away out in the country but never went camping; there was no Boy Scout Troop available. However, I enjoyed the outdoors on the farm and often read, in the school library Boys Life, the Scouting magazine. Camping out (bivouac) in the Army National Guard in the swamps of Ft. Stewart, GA should have dissuaded me from camping fever. Even Paige’ s initial negative response to my camping suggestion did not divert me. She said, “I do not intend to sleep in the woods, on the ground, with snakes crawling around!”

But when Paige discovered pop-up campers that we could tow behind our vehicle, she warmed to the idea. A lot. In our third year of marriage we rented—not bought—a pop-up camper for a trip to Stone Mountain Campground. Awkward, but a success. Each succeeding year brought more joy, innovations, successes, (and bloopers)–as we became a camping family. Over time—we camped from Orlando, Florida to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and in between. Memories of the smell of bacon frying in the morning mountain air still mesmerize me. Blue smoke from an evening campfire, and cool breezes among the night sounds are siren calls to my soul.

Paige’s mother got into camping spirit before her too-early death. Early on, Mama D bought a “zip-on” room for our camper; it was one where our toddlers would have more room to play during rainy weather. We thrilled at the opportunity to hitch up our camper and head off to a state or national park for a weekend—or a couple of weeks. I especially remember early one Fall—Paige, a teacher, our girls were toddlers, and school had not started; we were in a private campground in the Cherokee National Forest—no one else was there for the whole week. It was exhilarating!

Living in Atlanta—such a large city—I am grateful for the parks, trails, and playgrounds in the area. The “The Path” under development now passes near our neighborhood. It connects more and more networks of Metro-area nature trails —ultimately connecting trail networks—from Stone Mountain to Alabama. Although there is no camping on the paths, they do connect to parks and campgrounds. Myriad campgrounds populate the area, and are being well used, creating wonderful opportunities for outdoor adventures.

A Post Script for today; when Zach, my grandson was working his way in Scouting to Eagle rank—I as chaplain of his troop—I joined them on one segment of the famous Appalachian Trail for a few days. Although I will never trek that nearly 2,200-mile AT, I do marvel at what it offers in scenic and other adventures. In Georgia, it starts at Springer Mountain, and ends at Liberty Springs, New Hampshire. The hiking the AT makes me think of Psalm 121, I will lift up my eyes to the hills…

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

Today is Flag Day. On this day June 14, 1777, the Continental Congress adopted the Stars and Stripes as the official flag for the United States of America. According to Military.com it is believed that the first annual recognition of the flag’s birthday dates to 1885 when schoolteacher BJ Cigrand organized a group of Wisconsin students to observe June 14, the 108th anniversary of the official adoption of The Stars and Stripes as the Flag’s Birthday. Cigrand, now known as the Father of Flag Day, continued to publicly advocate the observance of June 14 as the flag’s birthday, or “Flag Day,” for years. The spirited song It’s a Grand Old Flag, by George M. Cohen inspires expansive appreciation of the Flag. (The sung version has a lot fewer verses than the printed lyrics.)

Although strong tradition holds that Betsy Ross made the first American flag, there are stories that question it as fact. Nevertheless, the The Stars and Stripes flag is established, and has a strong and storied tradition. U. S. Military Band leader, John Phillip Sousa implanted it in our hearts with his lively march The Stars and Stripes Forever.

There is the U. S. Flag Code and official etiquette for display and use of the flag. The flag is precious as a symbol and reminder of the United States as a nation. I am not a flag fanatic, but I am one with deep appreciation for what it has meant and does mean. I was quite pleased that The National Defense Authorization Act of 2008, was signed into law by President Bush on January 28, 2008. Because of this Act, as a military veteran , who no longer wears the uniform, I stand at attention and salute the flag when it goes by. I am saddened that many citizens fail to place their hand over their heart, or men fail to take off their hats to show respect when the Flag goes by.

I do not have room here to include the full text of Henry Holcomb Bennett’s poem, Hats Off! The Flag Goes By, but this stanza catches its essence; Hats off! /Along the street there comes /A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, /A flash of color beneath the sky: /Hats off!The flag is passing by! Proper respect and care should be given to the U.S. Flag. According to military.com the U.S. Flag Code though it is not legally enforceable, adherence to it is considered a sign of patriotism and respect. The code formalizes and unifies the traditional ways in which we give respect to the U.S. flag, and also gives specific instructions on how the U.S. flag is not to be used.

People who have never taken The Oath and served in a branch of the US Military may not have the deep appreciation for the flag, and therefore not adhere to the code (I give the benefit of doubt, usually because of their being uninformed). But The Oath, and military service puts a whole “nuther” complexion on the matter—A bond of unity—-somewhat akin to siblings of survival. A few days ago, the world recognized D-Day, and very likely you saw news clips with the extent to which one trooper after another laid down his life (or risked it) to help a fellow trooper! To these brave men and women the significance of the Flag is burned in their psyche.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024