Author Archives: Gordon C. Stewart

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About Gordon C. Stewart

I've always liked quiet. And, like most people, I've experienced the world's madness. "Be Still! Departure from Collective Madness" (Wipf and Stock Publishers, Jan. 2017) distills 47 years of experiencing stillness and madness as a campus minister and Presbyterian pastor (IL, WI, NY, OH, and MN), poverty criminal law firm executive director, and social commentator. Our cat Lady Barclay reminds me to calm down and be much more still than I would be without her.

The Waiting Room

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The surgery went “as well as could be expected” after two months of undiagnosed illness, but Sepsis is taking over his body, threatening his survival. The next two hours are critical.

His loved ones and friends are gathered in the ICU Waiting Room at Abbott-Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis.

Several hours earlier, I had observed six Muslim men praying the evening prayer at sundown at the far side of the Waiting Room. Oromo (Ethiopia) men had prayed the evening prayers at sundown, off to the far side of the large Waiting Room.

The men from Orono (Ethiopia), whom I had assumed to be Somali, are now gathered in chairs in the center of the Waiting Room, talking among themselves in Oromo.

When I approach them, intruding into their space, they recognize my presence. They stop talking. “Salaam,” I say. “Salaam,” they respond as if with a single voice and smile. “My friend is very sick. The next two hours are critical. I ask your prayers. His name is Phil.”

They respond as one would expect compassionate people to respond. “We will pray for him.”

I return to the small family area where my fellow Christians are gathered. I tell them the Muslims are praying for Phil. They’re pleased. We chat. Phil and Faith’s pastor eventually leads us in a Christian prayer.

Muslim prayer visitors

Muslim prayer visitors

An hour or so later three of the Oromo men come to our little room. They have come to tell us they have finished their prayers for Phil.

The voices and eyes of the men, led by their Imam, are kind, pastoral, as we say in the church. Full of compassion and concern for us. They have prayed in Arabic a Muslim prayer for healing on behalf of a stranger about whom they know nothing but his need:

“Remove the harm, O Lord of humankind and heal [Phil], for You are the Healer and there is no healing except Your healing, with a healing which does not leave any disease behind.” [narrated into English by al-Bukhaar]

Sometimes we have no choice but to wait. The Muslims from Oromo are waiting with us actively. Would that we all would wait so kindly, so patiently, so actively, and so wisely.

For a split second, I imagine the world as a Waiting Room.

– Gordon C. Stewart, Abbott-Northwester Hospital, Minneapolis, MN, June 12, 2015

Verse – SpEcTaToRs

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Is there a day without a sport?
Remember when ABC’s
Wide World of Sports
was just on TV Saturdays…
and for only 90 minutes?
Baseball games were on the radio.
Now ESPN Channels 1-348 are on 24-7.
Just today WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS are being played and broadcast in
Professional Men’s Basketball,
Professional Men’s Hockey, and
Professional Women’s soccer.
I think there is a sport every minute.

Of course I could be wrong–
I watch only movies via NetFlicks,
37 HD Satellite Channels, BLU-RAY,
or in Theaters with rocking chairs,
cup-holders, 5 gallon popcorn buckets,
300 speakers, and IMAX.

Our grand-children watch small screens
under the covers after lights-out.

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, June 11, 2015

Verse – Don’t do it, Sister!

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He doesn’t think that I’m real smart,
All I do he picks apart
But, surprise!
He thinks I’m wise
If I should give to him my heart.

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, June 7, 2015

Poster from Battered Women's Support Services, Vancouver, Canada

Poster from Battered Women’s Support Services, Vancouver, Canada

Verse – The worst jobs in America

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Cleaning toilets
Changing adult diapers
Scraping up roadkill
Killing in a slaughterhouse
Telling family Mom has died
Telling Mom the baby died
Killing unadopted pets
Telling kids their pet has died
Teaching to the test

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, June 7, 2015

button against teaching to the test.

button against teaching to the test.

Verse – The Actress

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IMG_7630She’s small, as they say, for her age.
She’s four-foot-eight though she’s twelve
years watching this whole world revolve
around the red sun.
…………………………….She’s on stage
each day when at school or at home.
Her voice screeches loudly, can fill
her classroom and on down the hall.
She’s always the one in the gym
whose laugh or whose cry will resound
and reverberate as they play.

She screamed when she thought that she saw
a stranger beneath a large mound
of bedclothes in her parents’ room.
She took off one flip-flop and struck
her napping grandfather. The smack
was heard by everyone home.

The parents said she should have run
outside–and then called 9-1-1…

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, June 5, 2015

 

The Socialist Jew

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This tweet caught Steve’s attention, as well it should!

Socialist Jew Quote

Socialist Jew Quote

Caricatures – the best we can do today

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Steve and I have been left speechless recently, but the blogging must go on! Steve sent this email yesterday (subject line: I’m still not writing poems) and granted permission to publish in this dire emergency.

“When in Seminary in 1966, my spouse of one year and I drove to Disneyland. For maybe $5 each, a sidewalk artist drew us as “Research Scientist” (true), and “College Prof” (merely a dream). Although I finally received a Duke Ph.D., I had been a Presbyterian Pastor by then for 10 years, and that’s what I did for 30 more–with some college teaching on the side. Nevertheless, many years of learning & teaching.” – Steve

Nadja Shoemaker (research scientist)

Nadja Shoemaker (research scientist)

Steve Shoemaker caricature (the professor)

Steve Shoemaker caricature (the professor)

Bernie Sanders and Rand Paul – a Glimpse

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I’ve been waiting  for years for Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT), whose recently announced candidacy for President of the United States is drawing astonishingly large crowds.

Ask him why he’s running and he tells you. And when he does, he speaks with two qualities that too often are estranged from one another: keen intelligence and passionate conviction. His voice resonates with a timber from deep within his soul. He’s not your stereotypical politician. He doesn’t answer questions by running in circles. He’s not afraid to offend potential supporters. He’s as bold as they come. What he’s bold about is common sense. The crowds in Minnesota and Iowa are coming out to meet him because they hear the voice of a truth-teller. No matter that Bernie speaks with a Brooklyn accent.

No other candidate for President during my lifetime has been as clear or concise as Bernie Sanders. Here’s a sample of Bernie engaging Senator Rand Paul (R-KY) on senior hunger back in 2011 before Bernie and Rand threw their names in the hat.

No one knows how far Bernie will go in his bid for the Presidency. But suddenly the mainstream media within the Washington Beltway and the New York Times the sneered at him a week ago are beginning to sense they’d better pay attention.

– Gordon C. Stewart, Chaska, MN, June 2, 2015.

 

 

 

 

 

Steve was dry as a bone…

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“until Saturday a friend asked me to write a funny tribute to mainstay in a community choir I sang with since I retired. Here is her picture & the light-verse-for-hire. Print it if you want. It’s all I got. (They read it last night at a party–at Ginny’s house–and gave her a framed copy.)”
1.
Ginny MahichThere’s a Ginny that lives in Mahomet–
Tongue and pen are fast, like a comet,
She sings a fine alto,
Or even soprano,
Bakes pastries, and writes a good sonnet!

2.
She goes to Beyler’s for her singing lessons
And she always pays for her sessions
She teases her Julie,
And if sometimes unruly,
A good Catholic, she makes her Confessions!

3.
Her demeanor is often quite merry,
The hats she wears: extraordinary!
And there’s alway a prank,
With her husband, Frank:
Their parties are all legendary.

4.
We all can agree, not one is a doubter
That Ginny Muhich is never a pouter.
So let’s give a cheer
For our Ginny so dear,
The Chorale would go under without her!

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, May 31, 2015

“Where’s Mom? I Need Mom!”

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Barclay

Barclay

Barclay must have been begging for help during the night without a mother to hear his desperate pleas. Kay (Mom) has been out of town for a week.

When I approached his kennel this morning, there was an odor. But I thought to myself, that can’t be. Barq hasn’t had an accident in 18 months. His colitis is under control. I was just praising his habits to friends yesterday.

I opened the kennel door. Barclay rushed downstairs in a panic, leaving a trail behind him on the upstairs landing, down the flight of 18 steps, on the downstairs entry floor and carpet before I could get him outdoors Poor little guy.

So I’ve been cleaning up the mess, wiping the floors and soiled carpets, laundering his blankets, de-fumigating his kennel, bathing him, drying him, and brushing him out ever since. Barclay is resting comfortably now on the sofa while I go up and down the stairs wash doing the laundry.

On behalf of Barclay, I sent the following email to Kay, who this morning is with her six girlfriends at the retreat house in northeast Nebraska owned and operated by the Audubon Society.

He needs his mom badly. Bad mom! Bad mom!

“Where’s mom? I need mom!” he asks with those big brown eyes. “She’s in Nebraska with the birds,” I tell him. “Why is she in Nebraska, and what’s she doing with the birds? Does she like the birds more than me?” “No, Barq, she’s with her girlfriends at an Audubon sanctuary.” “What’s an Audubon? Is that like those fast highways they have in Germany? Is mom driving too fast? Will mom be safe driving?” “Yes, mom will be safe. She driving in a great big car today down to the Audubon river with her girlfriends.” “Car?! Ride in the car?!” “No, Barq, mom’s riding in the car with her girlfriends.” “Aw, Mom likes girls better than us? Why, dad, why? Is that why she wasn’t here last night to help me? Is that why you had to pick up my poop and pee – ‘cause it was a guy’s pee and poop? Is mom ever coming back? Are we alone here together, just the two of us, when only one of us can hear?” “No, mom loves you very much, Barq. No need to worry. She’s coming back on Monday. She’s driving back in her car….” “Car? Go for the ride in the car? Can we, Dad?” “Not right now, Barq, Dad has to continue to dry you out and comb you before we can do anything like that, and, besides, you’re not getting any breakfast this morning. Your stomach has to recover today.” “Mom would give me breakfast!!!” “No, she wouldn’t because you’re sick.” “I’m not a dick, Dad, I just don’t feel well. If mom thinks we’re both dicks and mom likes girls better than guys, do you think there’s a danger she might not come back, that she might stay with her girlfriends and the birds by the Autobahn?”

In short – we’re having a most exquisite Saturday morning.

– Gordon C. Stewart, lonely in Chaska, Minnesota, May 30, 2015.