Remembering More Mentors

Remembering Mentors this Easter Season

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race set before us.”–Hebrews 12:1.

Today, I honor a Mentor who died in May 2020 from coronavirus, an early victim of the virus. I still remember how moved we were to hear of the death of the Rev. William Barnwell, a priest in New Orleans. I treasure every minute I spent with him at the National Cathedral at the College of Preachers and through the adult education program, Disciples of Christ in Community, DOCC. He taught me, especially about literature and the Bible, preaching and standing up fiercely for those society has forgotten or never cared for.

 The New Orleans Times-Picayune calls William “the crusading minister of New Orleans.” I knew him most as the soft-spoken man with a rich New Orleans accent. Through his courses about the Bible and accompanying rich stories from modern literature, he led us to a greater understanding of the Bible through the lens of contemporary writers.

 I treasure the books he wrote that Henry Hudson gave me when Henry left New Orleans. Lead Me On, Let Me Stand, A Clergyman’s Story in White and Black. William also wrote Called to Heal and Brokenhearted: Stories from Kairos Prison Ministry International.

Just the titles of these two books hint at his passionate ministry. It was indeed a God thing that a friend, Michael Hackett, invited William to dinner with us in January 2020 in New Orleans after a conference at the nearby Solomon Conference Center. I will continually cherish the opportunity to have that last meal with him.

William served in the Coast Guard, but was most known as a community organizer against racism and injustice.

Easter can be a time to remember the lives of those who died from this virus and thank them for what they brought to our lives. I will especially say prayers for William Barnwell, who almost died so many times as he fought to save and change the lives of others with his words from the pulpit, with his words through the Bible and contemporary literature, and with his words on our southern streets and in our southern prisons.

Give thanks for those who have mentored you. Continue their life by sharing with others what you learned from them. Call or write and thank them during this Easter season.
Joanna https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Lessons From Birding

Lessons from Birding

Guest Writer: Vickie Becker

Musings from a Campground

Ovenbird

Birding by ear was a concept I’d never heard of before I started hanging around with experienced birders. Whoever thought about being able to identify birds just by listening to them! By the time I wanted to become part of the elite group that could do that, my ears were declining in quality, and I’d long since moved on to hearing aids.

No matter how good or expensive the hearing aids are, it’s not like having young, healthy ears. They just don’t work as well - sound location is tricky, for one thing, and the sound, the tonal quality of birdsong, can get distorted by distance, wind, and reflection. But I try.

There are a few (really loud) birds that I can ID immediately, anywhere, anyplace by sound. Great Horned Owls, for instance. They are immediately recognizable with their nightly “hu-hu-hu-hoo-hoo” calls that reach long distances. Chickadees are pretty identifiable, as are Tufted Titmice, Cardinals with their “Right Chere, Chere, Chere,” Fish Crows denying any culpability, shouting “Nuh-uh.”

There are other species I can recognize with a bit of help. I often use an app called “Merlin .” Merlin will record the birds I’m listening to and tell me what he thinks they are. Merlin tends to know his stuff pretty well and is relatively accurate. I can hear a birdsong and think I know what it is, and Merlin will either agree or disagree. It’s not a bad compromise with poor hearing, I guess. 

And there are those birdsongs that are way too high in pitch for me ever to hear, or so fragmented that only a tiny portion of their song is recognizable, or that I hear so infrequently that I just don’t have any idea what I hear, Merlin or no Merlin. It’s complicated. I’m grateful to hear what I can.

I made a trip a couple of hours west to Mount Magazine State Park with a two-fold purpose. The first was to bird. See birds, hear birds, and enjoy birds in all their myriad shapes and sizes. (The second purpose was to ensure the used RV I recently bought was roadworthy for the California trip I planned in a few months. I found a leak in the bathroom, so . . . success after a fashion for my second purpose.)

I found something bird-related I didn’t expect:  Ovenbirds were calling incessantly at Mount Magazine. 

Ovenbird

 Ovenbirds are so named because their nest is said to resemble an outdoor oven. They tend to stay close to the ground and are hard to find in the grass. But you can certainly hear them, even me. The noise was constant. Usually, two birds would sing to each other - a call and a response. This enchanted me because I don’t hear these birds at home. For whatever reason, they were gathering on the top of the highest point in Arkansas, at 2,753 feet, Mount Magazine.

The trees were still bare, at least 3 weeks behind Little Rock.

The wind blew, howled, really, the entire time I was there. Sometimes a gale force, sometimes something lighter, but always wind. The campground was full of tall trees bending in the wind, free of the brush so prevalent in the woods in the central part of the state. And the Ovenbirds sang throughout. If there was daylight, Ovenbirds were singing.

I heard only four species while I was there - the Ovenbirds, a quick comment from an Eastern Phoebe, and American Crows and Blue Jays, which seem to bloom wherever they’re planted.

There were so many birds when I was little that I haven’t seen or heard in years and years. Bob-whites, Whip-poor-wills, and Owls used to be so plentiful.

 My dad noticed Scissor-tailed Flycatchers moving north from Texas when I was about ten - ditto for Armadillos and Greater Roadrunners. We didn’t associate it with climate change or habitat degradation at the time. Things change. Losses occur.

But those Ovenbirds sang right straight through. I never saw a single one despite searching for 4 days.

 For me, those calls were the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Right there on the top of Mount Magazine.

Vickie Becker

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Parker Palmer:Let Your Life Speak

Parker Palmer: Let Your Life Speak

“A leader is someone with the power to project either shadow or light onto some part of the world and onto the lives of the people who dwell there. A leader shapes the ethos in which others must live, an ethos as light-filled as heaven or as shadowy as hell.”—Parker J. Palmer, “Shadows and Spirituality” in Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation (Jossey-Bass, 2000).

I learned about Parker Palmer when I attended a College of Preachers conference just for deacons at the National Cathedral led by the Bishop of Maryland, Robert Ihloff. We spent the whole week learning to preach and studying Palmer’s book about vocation.

Parker Palmer told us about what causes leaders to fail.

We cast a shadow rather than light when we fail to go on an inner journey and are insecure about our own identity and worth. Our identity becomes dependent on performing.

When we are insecure about our own self-worth, we create situations that deprive others of their identity or develop settings in which others are required to meet our needs.

We assume titles that place us above others.

We call others by their first name, while we must be addressed by our last name or title.

Leaders fail when they see the universe as a hostile battlefield. We see others as either allies or enemies on a playing field where we must be highly competitive or we will lose.

Palmer’s third explanation of why leaders fail is “functional atheism,” a term he may have coined. We believe that the ultimate responsibility for everything rests with us.

The fourth shadow within a leader that leads to failure is fear, mostly fear of chaos. This fear leads to a rigidity toward rules and procedures. We forget that creativity is born out of chaos.

Finally, Parker sees leaders fail when they deny death. They keep resuscitating programs that are no longer alive, putting them on life support.

I can identify with all of these shadows of leadership.

Do these shadows speak to you as well?

During the unsettling and difficult periods in our lives is a good time to listen again and again to Parker Palmer’s voice in Let Your Life Speak.

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com