"I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light"...a standard in the Hymnal. Great music to sing along to, and the message (on the tertiary) makes you want to sing louder. And once you hear (or even think of) the song, it is stuck in your head for the rest of the day. I've read some pretty critical reviews on the song (apparently, not a favorite of Christian Music Analysts) that say the lyrics make no sense (in that the lines are contradictory to both each other and the foundation of our faith), none of the lines really relate to one another, and that the song itself is somehow "fake" and self-serving. Whatever...maybe they just don't hear the message as it was meant.
Honestly, I had never even heard of the song until after Cooper had passed. She and I were sitting at our kitchen table with our priest planning his funeral service. Sarah said she wanted it played, Father Gerry agreed, and I went along with it. Though I KNOW it was played, I can't say that I really remember it being sung by that packed church. I do, however, remember the next time it was sung in a Sunday Service at Trinity Episcopal Church in The Woodlands...I immediately recognized it, and I felt really good (though I could swear I saw his small, blue steel casket in the front of the church again), and Sarah cried because of the life event with which she now associates that song.
I have thought of this song everyday of this week, and it's because I think I finally understand it. I think I know what it means to be a "child of the light." A friend sent me an email mid-week to let me know that somebody (who really wasn't more than acquaintance to me) had passed away the previous weekend. I was almost immediately full of shame and regret. This person was a neighbor. The family situation is "complicated" to say the least, but perhaps that is because I never took the time to really understand it. Older parents; a pregnant teenaged daughter and another one that was already a teen mom; a son too young to have the criminal record that he did; a tween daughter with a possible history of abuse, and a youngest son that bullied my own kids.
Last year, I watched this family change. The older boy was apparently sent away in the custody of the law, the youngest sister apparently was re-located for therapeutic reasons, and the young boy got involved in scouting. Things got better as far a bus behavior reports from my kids are concerned. Then, the behavior reverted....the bullying returned...and he was removed from the bus. Soon I only saw the boy as he sat with his father who was the elementary school crossing guard. The first day of school came, and I wondered where he was...did the school district cut his job? Did he resign the position? The traffic around the school really needed him, but I went about my life. Now, I suppose it makes sense.
Now what? Was I a good neighbor? Am I living hypocrisy? I know the difference between right and wrong, but I'm not accepting the challenge as I know I should. I've been to the Mount, I've hear the Sermon, I've eaten the bread and fishes, and I feel like I'm walking away from the "hard teachings." But I know that Jesus is The Light of the World, and I want to walk as a child of The Light...I want to follow Jesus. It's tough, and I am full of flaws; a guy can hope, though...can't he?
My ears are open to the message--Cooper did that for me. I see the world differently, and I hear the message [for me] in songs and sayings that would have just vibrated my eardrums before. That is what his cure is for me, and I am eternally grateful to him. I was supposed to do that for him, but he did it for me.
Today, the deal was sealed at Trinity...again. Deacon Sean read the Gospel, and Father Gerry gave the homily. Father Gerry said it was a controversial translation that didn't favor Jesus' kindness very well; I got the message, though....I got MY message. "The children must eat before the dogs." Whether or not it was a loaded statement, or whether or not He had a twinkle in his eye when he said it, I don't really care. "Even the dogs eat the crumbs that the children drop under the table." The gentile woman gave the response as if providing the answer to the password challenge at the entrance to the secret party.
EVERYBODY deserves truth and justice and kindness and time and attention. Everybody deserves to be your neighbor, and be treated as one, because they are. In the light of God we're all neighbors, we're all the same, we aren't to be treated differently. I would say that I've been shown the way, but I think I have so much more to learn. I know the path we are taking because "the light" is shining the way. I want it to shine in my heart, so He can lead through me. I don't know if I'm worthy, but I have to keep trying; otherwise, I'm ignoring the gifts of hearing and sight that Cooper gave me. Today, I hear the song. Now I want to sing it with my life.
That's all I've got for now, except for a final association:
For a while now, when I hear or think of the song, I hear my friend Jerome singing it. It's a really good memory. He sings with such gusto that I know he sees more in the words of the song than shallow, contradictory phrases. Jerome's health is failing, so I don't see him in church much anymore, and I miss him. If I were to eternally link that song with the memory of Cooper, the memory of Jerome singing it is a great tribute to Coop's memory. The singing is loud and joyful from a voice that is scratchy and slightly off-key pouring out of a head that is positioned like that of a Peanut's character singing and attached to a body that swaying off balance from the chest heaving that accompanies taking breaths that deep to sing that joyfully.
1. I want to walk as a child of the light;
I want to follow Jesus.
God set the stars to give light to the world;
the star of my life is Jesus.
Refrain
In him there is no darkness at all;
the night and the day are both alike.
The Lamb is the light of the city of God:
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.
2. I want to see the brightness of God;
I want to look at Jesus.
Clear Sun of righteousness, shine on my path,
and show me the way to the Father.
3. I’m looking for the coming of Christ;
I want to be with Jesus.
When we have run with patience the race,
we shall know the joy of Jesus.
...and thank You for The Plumber. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment