Tuesday, August 26, 2008

As Clear As A Spanish Town At Noon… Thoughts on Jo Stafford

She was before my time. I am not sure why I liked her. Maybe because my dad was a Vet during World War II, I am not sure. But I am a fan of many of those World War II tunes, the big band era and the American Song book. For many in my confirmation class who relate to hip hop and Justin Timberlake it is strange music. The music that Jo Stafford sang seemed like it was from a happier time…. She sang many things, some of which were war tunes that seemed to inspire people who suffered from separation from those who went off to defend our country.

Examples of those melodies are "I will never smile again until I smile at you…" or "I will be seeing you in all those old familiar places…" or "Saturday night is the loneliest night of the week…" or the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of company B by the Andrew Sisters and others.

If you appreciate the American Song book like I do, you must be saddened by her death, as she is one of the original singers of that historic era.

I first became acquainted with her work through the Pipe Pipers and the Tommy Dorsey Band that Frank Sinatra sang with in the early 40s. I last saw her on a special that honored Frank Sinatra. She came out of retirement to sing a rendition of ”I will never smile again" with the Pipe Pipers. I still have a tape of the old geezers reuniting.

I am a child of the 60s, but the music of Harold Arlen, Sammy Cahn, Jimmy Van Heusen, Johnny Mercer, Cole Porter, George Gershwin, Richard Rogers and Lorenz Hart, Allen J Learner, Irving Berlin and many others from that era and Tin Pan Ally always wrapped themselves around my ears. Their work is always an amazing experience. It could be sung by Judy Garland or Peggy Lee or Ella Fitzgerald and, of course, Jo Stafford

Jo Stafford is well known for her big hit "You belong to me." Jonathan Schwartz said that she sang "directly in the center of the note, and her sound was as clear as a Spanish town at noon."

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Angry Atheists

Atheists – “Thou doth protest too much, methinks.” In the past year we have had many books come out on atheism or should I say “Anti God” if could coin such a term. I am not bothered by atheists per se. There are many in the history of the faith and in modern existential thought who have contributed to in a meaningful way to the “God conversation” — Nietzsche, Sartre and Camus to name a few. Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins of late really have only added their misplaced anger. I found the following on a recent blog entry of Andrew Sullivan (http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/) in which I find common ground:

But atheism has expelled me. It has expelled me because it has in its heart contempt and loathing and fear of the other. So I reject it. I don't reject all atheists; many atheists are uninterested in ridiculing the religious -- they simply want to be left in peace, and not have religion forced on them or on the law. That, to me, is a principled atheism, and one I am happy to coexist with. But this new atheism, this anti-theism, has only contempt at its heart, and I reject it as thoroughly as it has rejected me.

In the end, there is an atheism that inhabits all meaningful conversations on faith. Doubt is about faith and without it there would not be faith. As a believer who loves this frail and flawed church I can only echo words of a boy’s father in the Gospel of Mark: ”Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.” Mark 9:24

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

A ride through Astoria

I am not often in Queens, a sort of forgotten borough of New York City with the exception of the thousands of people that live in this dense area of the city. On this occasion I was there to preside at a funeral for a family that had lost their father at 86 years. He was a Lutheran and they needed a pastor, so I was there to help them through this difficult passage. He was survived by his three children. They insisted on a graveside service which was fine with me, but it was preceded by a funeral procession which was to pass by familiar places like the family home and church.

So, we were off on our journey through a place teeming with people from all kinds of ethnic backgrounds. As we drove through crowded streets on a Saturday morning I saw grocery stores that were Spanish or Greek. I noticed Italian restaurants, and a Brazilian place that looked good among nail shops and Korean noodle shops. It was an adventure to the eye to be seeing all the different nationalities and languages and people as we processed with poor leadership from the guy in the hearse. Within a few minutes we had lost half of the procession and minutes later two yellow taxi cabs joined our group for a while along with some other unwanted cars. When we crossed intersections impatient people in cars tried to pull in front of us. Next time I hope that guy who was so angry at me will wave at me with 5 fingers instead of just one.

The farther along we continued, the more difficult it got, but not knowing where the cemetery was I was determined to continue, no matter what and not get separated from the lead car. We eventually arrived at the graveside and waited for those lost to find us—which most of them did. All I kept thinking about was the passage: “Let the dead bury the dead”… It would be easier than trying to drive through Queens on a Saturday morning. Life does go on even in the midst of death and in Queens it looks extra busy.

Despite all the complications we arrived at the spot where he was to lay, next to his wife, as his tree children and grandchildren looked on to receive a flag from our country where he served. I did hear the military man say, “He served 4 years overseas, he is the real McCoy, the genuine article a member of the ‘greatest generation’”. His children told me that he was a great dad and husband and even was an usher and Elder at Grace Lutheran Church in Astoria.

Life goes on, no question about that. Sometimes we just need to stop and pay our last respects to a life well lived and one given for others.