Author Archives: Gordon C. Stewart

Unknown's avatar

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 Pianist (an acrostic)

Posted on by
2

Jowls quiver before he will play a note,Raise arm now

Each beat and accent felt inside his frame.

In a swoop, the sounds will float,

Enter the air above the piano–same

Mozart motions when he directed, played:

Yes, fellow genius, centuries apart…

Drums, trumpets, strings, a dance, a dirge–all made

Entirely one, unity from the start.

No score for pianist. Eyes are often shut

Keys are played from memory, mind…and heart.

BACKGROUND:The San Francisco Symphony, Directed by Michael Tilson Thomas, played tonight at Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. The Mozart Piano Concerto No. 25 in C Major (1786) was performed by Jeremy Denk, who in September received a MacArthur Foundation “Genius” Grant. He is a writer for the New Yorker & has a blog recently selected by the Library of Congress Web Archives.

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Nov. 15, 2013

Climate Change and the Nations

Posted on by
11

Haggai by Giovanni Pisano, Sienna, Italy.

Haggai by Giovanni Pisano, Sienna, Italy.

“The Philippines envoy to the UN climate change conference has issued an emotional announcement that he will go on hunger strike unless talks lead to a “meaningful outcome”. Click HERE to read the whole story in The Independent.

Naderev “Yeb” Sano is not the only one who’s fasting. So is a dear friend in Pennsylvania. Carolyn and I were in kindergarten together. Our families were best friends. We grew up in each others’ living rooms. We went to the same church. Went to Sunday School and Confirmation together. Graduated from high school together. Our parents retired to the same retirement community in Cornwall, Pennsylvania where one after the other they each came to the end of their lives concerned about the shape of the future. Carolyn and I come by it naturally, I suppose, and the Kidder DNA and the Stewart DNA, although different, is like the DNA of the entire human species: essentially the same.

What happens to the human species if the scientists have it right? How do we care for each other across the planet – ONE species in the Philippines, Poland, the Netherlands, Argentina, and the USA – facing the daunting changes that are coming? If we believe that we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers, what changes will we make individually and together to exercise that responsibility?

Carolyn and “Yeb” Sano have decided to fast until the meeting in Warsaw leads to a meaningful outcome. Fasting is not for everyone, although I can’t help wonder what impact it would have if there were a fast across the world that spoke louder than words to the national representatives gathered this week by the United Nations in Warsaw, Poland.

In place of fasting this morning I looked again at the strange little book of Haggai in Hebrew Scripture, and what did I see? A civil leader named Zerubbabel and a religious leader named Joshua trying to lead their people during a time of colonial occupation. We, too, live under colonial occupation – the occupation of international greed and neglect of the planet, its people, and the environment itself. Perhaps Carolyn and “Yeb” are like the prophet Haggai, whose term of ministry BTW was less than four months. “The word of the LORD (the word is in caps because it refers to the reality that is beyond all human naming and controlling, “YHWH”, which is no name at all) came a second time to Haggai on the twenty-fourth day of the month, ‘Speak to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah, saying, I am about to shake the heavens and the earth, and to overthrow the throne of kingdoms; I am about to destroy the strength of the kingdoms of the nations… On that day, says the LORD of hosts, I will take you, O Zerubbabel, my servant,… and make you like a signet ring; for I have chosen you, says the LORD of hosts.” (Haggai 2:20-23).

The climate shaking that has driven “Yeb” and Carolyn to fasting is no respecter of nations. It knows no national boundaries. Nationalist thinking has outlived its time. There is only one people. Only one human species in a wonderful diversity of geography, culture, color, religion, and language. The “kingdoms of the nations” are gathered today in Warsaw, and one of their representatives from the Philippines is shaking the presumption of all of the thrones. The national delegates bear the equivalent of the king’s signet ring to sign and seal agreements and documents on behalf of the modern equivalent of their kings. Sometimes in life a person IS like a signet ring for a new order, a man for our time like Naderev “Yeb” Sano.

The Socks in the Kitchen Sink

Posted on by
4

Dirty sock washing

Dirty sock washing

She was washing her socks in the kitchen sink next to the hors d’oeuvres and the punch bowl after the ice skating party.

Marguerite was a bit different. Brilliant. Socially challenged. Single. The church group of singles and young marrieds was her closest thing to family. The family was used to the quirks, except for the newly married minister’s wife who’d never seen anything like this.

“What are you doing?”

“Washing my socks.”

“Why?”

“They’re wet.”

Recognizing that Marguerite was clueless, the 22-year-old minister’s wife quietly moved the splattered dish of hors d’oeuvres and the punch bowl to the long table nearby and saved her comments for later. Sometimes you have to stuff a sock in your mouth. Without room for every kind, a church is not a church.

Disclaimer: The picture is not from the church and it’s not Marguerite. It’s staged…I think.

The First Snow

Posted on by
Reply

And the first deep cold
This year came
Before the lawn chairs
Were inside
The old brown shed.

The fall leaves
Bright red and yellow
Froze in mats
Unraked and unbagged
Under the thick snow.

The bird bath
Cracked and the hoses
Split from ice
Expanding cruelly
Relentlessly.

Will my clear
Procrastination
Be punished
All winter long or
Will a warm week
Bring forgiveness?

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, November 13, 2013

A Tribute to Hope

Posted on by
4

In memory of Abigail Salyers
B.A, Math, 1963; PhD, Nuclear Physics, 1969.
(An Acrostic)

All A’s were on her report card,
But because she was pregnant she
Is told in 1959
Graduation will not be
Allowed. But her English teacher
Is on her side and fights to see
Learning will continue for her.

She stays in school. Mrs. Baker
Also helps her go to college
Late though it is in pregnancy.
Yes, she works, keeps her baby,
Even gets Phi Beta Kappa,
Receives “Honors” on her degree.
Serves others as a Professor.

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, November 10, 2013

Abigail Salyers Obituary

Abigail A. Salyers died at 11:56 PM in Urbana, Illinois, Wednesday, November 6, 2013 at the age of 70. She was known worldwide as a research scientist, author and professor at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. Abigail attracted students from all over Illinois and the world. They appreciated her mastery of science, her intellect, her skills as a lecturer, mentor, and her unique sense of humor.

Abigail was born on December 24, 1942 in Louisville, KY to Robert K. and Loretta S. Salyers. Survivors include her life partner Jeffrey F. Gardner of Champaign, IL; a daughter Georgia E. Will of Seal Beach, CA; a brother Robert K. Salyers, of Louisville, KY; and sister Martha J. Salyers, of Ashville, NC.

Abigail began at Illinois in 1978 after an undergraduate degree in Mathematics (Phi Beta Kappa) in 1963 and a PhD in Nuclear Physics in1969 from George Washington University, Washington, D.C. After four years of teaching, research and tenure at St. Mary’s College in Maryland she switched fields by taking courses in Biochemistry and Microbiology and secured a second post-doctorate position in Biochemistry and Microbiology from Virginia Polytechnical Institute. She studied, taught and did research at VPI from 1973 to 1978.

She became the first female tenured professor in Microbiology at Illinois in 1983 and a full professor in 1988. While at Illinois, Abigail was named a University Scholar, Faculty Member of the Year in the College of Medicine, a member of the Center for Advanced Study and an Affiliate in the Institute for Genomic Biology. She received the Pasteur Award for Research and Teaching, the All-Campus Award for Excellence in Teaching in the University of Illinois Medical School and the Golden Apple Award for Medical School Teaching three times. She was named the G. William Arends Professor in Molecular and Cellular Biology from 2004 until she retired in 2012.

Among the books she authored are Bacterial Pathogenesis: A Molecular Approach, (by A. A. Salyers and Dixie Witt) first published in 1994 and now in its Third Edition. Bacterial Resistance to Antimicrobials, (by A.A. Salyers and co-authors) first published in 2002 and is now in its Second Edition. Revenge of the Microbes, (by A.A. Salyers and D. Witt) was published by 2005. It was a popular treatment of the latest scientific information in the fields of microbial pathegenesis and antibiotic resistance. It was intended for a broad audience.

Abigail was assisted in her research and publications by Research Associates Nadja B. Shoemaker, Gui Wang and over 30 Graduate Students working on their Ph.D.s and Masters Degrees in Microbiology at Illinois. Her 5 books, over 200 peer-reviewed research articles, reviews and chapters in books edited by others, were read by fellow microbiologists and biochemists everywhere. Her papers were cited widely (received over 600 citations) by other scientists.

Abigail was President of the 40,000 member American Society for Microbiology in 2001-2002. Her research was supported by the Department of Energy and the National Institutes of Health. In recognition of her standing in the scientific community she served several terms as a member of National Institutes of Health panels that reviewed research grants. She was awarded an an honorary Doctorate from ETH University in Zurich, Switzerland in 2001. One of Abigail’s main interests was the diversity of microorganisms on the planet. She was Co-Director of the Microbial Diversity Summer Course at the Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole, MA for the Summers of 1995-1999. Abigail and her co-director, Ed Ledbetter, modernized the course. The course was extremely popular and attracted graduate students and even university faculty members with a wide range of backgrounds from all over the world. Students performed field work to enrich for and isolate a diverse array of microorganisms. They also used state of the art laboratory technology to study the biochemistry and genetics of the microorganisms isolated from the field.

Abigail was a committed teacher and taught classes in both Liberal Arts and Sciences and in the Medical School at the University of Illinois. She was awarded the 2009 National Graduate Teacher Award in Microbiology. She was also committed educating the public. For example she met with local postal workers to educate them about risks of anthrax during the alarm in 2001.

When asked about her own most influential teacher in an interview at an ASM meeting, Abigail surprised her radio questioner by saying it was a Wakefield High School (Arlington, Va.) English teacher. Mrs. Baker kept Abigail from being kicked out of school for being pregnant and helped her get into college. At that time, pregnant teenage girls were not often accepted by college administrators.

Memorials may be directed to the Development Office at the Marine Biological Laboratory, 7 MBL Street, Woods Hole, MA 02543 to establish an endowed lectureship or student scholarship for the Microbial Diversity Course in her name.

Sermon on Courage, Work, and Assurance

Posted on by
4

The school bus driver

Posted on by
8

The white cane moving back and forth in front of him belongs to seven-year-old Sam. The little guy moves cautiously, as the blind must do, hand-in-hand with a young woman I presume to be his mother, on his way into the Artist’s Reception.

Many of the people here on this Friday night are school bus drivers for District 112 School District. I’m wondering if perhaps Sam’s mother is a school bus driver.

Turns out that the featured artist, John Lince-Hopkins, is Sam’s school bus driver. John has invited Sam to see “Morning has broken: a Celebration of Light”, the collection of oil painting that now hangs on the walls of the Gathering Space at Shepherd of the Hill Presbyterian Church in Chaska where I serve as pastor.

It’s an evening of revelation about a very special group of people who know their passengers by name, quietly welcome each child every morning, say good-bye to them in the afternoon, and watch to be sure that children like Sam with his white cane make it safely across the street no matter what dark clouds may cross their paths that day on their slow, daily journey toward adulthood.

Most of my teachers’ names are long forgotten. But I remember my school bus driver. Why we called Mr. Thompson “Tommy” is a sign of the time in which I grew up when, sadly, school bus drivers did not command the respect that lawyers and doctors do. “Good morning, Gordon.” “Good morning, Mr. Thompson.” All these years later Mr. Thompson stands out in my memory. Bus drivers are special people. Perhaps because they call no attention to themselves, they stand out in our memories as signs of light.

John welcomes Sam in that special way some bus drivers have. “Would you like to see a painting?”

John, whose art has sold for thousands of dollars in Texas, Alaska, New Mexico, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, is inviting Sam to do what most landscape artists most dread. He’s inviting Sam to touch his paintings, to “see” the only way Sam can: by touch.

Lifted high so he can touch the oils of the cloud formations and the light of “Morning Has Broken: a Celebration of Light” Sam reaches out his hand. Very carefully he runs his fingers over the dry paint that allows him to see the light and contours of the clouds and landscapes of his bus driver’s paintings, more raptly attentive to the art than those of us who presume to see what we are viewing.

On this night John’s art is a bus ride into the light of morning breaking into the darkness of night. A seven-year-old boy named Sam, whose eyes have never seen light, gets to touch it for himself.

“Morning has broken like the first morning, blackbird has spoken like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them, springing, fresh from the Word!”

Boy gets a life Lesson on Halloween

Posted on by
4

Small boy dressed as Robin. I give him candy and he says “I don’t like that. I want the M&Ms in the bowl.” I say, “I already gave you candy”. He says, with more belligerence, “I want the M&Ms”. I say, “Take what you got kid. You can’t always get what you want. How’s that for a life lesson?” Diane bans me from handing out anymore candy.

– Mark Wendorf, Sanford, ME, friend and colleague with a great sense of humor. Diane is Mark’s spouse.

The Waiting Room

Posted on by
Reply

The voices of the visitors
would drop when they entered
the almost empty anteroom
and stood before the blond wood door
of her positive pressure room.

The air could exit but could not
bring more bad bugs into her lungs
immuno-compromised by stays
in this or other hospitals.

Her breathing stopped on the 4th night
as cancer squeezed another last
breath from exhausted failing lungs.
The empty room keeps breathing out.

[Abigail A. Salyers, 12/24/42–11/6/13, received a Ph. D. in nuclear physics from George Washington University, later did Post-Doctoral studies in Microbiology in Virginia & was the first female tenured Professor in the microbiology department at the Univ. of Illinois. She was elected President of the 40,000 member American Society for Microbiology for 2001-2. She was the author of several books & hundreds of professional articles in her field.]

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, November 7, 2013

November Frost

Posted on by
1

White hoarfrost
red Sumac
leaves shriveled
red glistening
in November
morning sun
between seasons
of shriveled
and not yet
leaving blue eyes
red with brilliance
beyond belief

– Gordon C. Stewart, November 5, 2013

I’m no poet, but sometimes I have to pretend I am. My early memories include the beauty of the Sumacs along the coast in Rockport, MA. Every time we left the house, the Sumacs were right there inside the yard with the white picket fence.

There is something about a Sumac tree that is all its own, the red pods in summer set among the green leaves, the red-orange leaves in autumn, the leafless willowy structure with a bare beauty all its own in winter.

This morning’s walk with Barclay, the five month old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, took us through the fields covered with hoarfrost. We came to the Sumacs. Barclay sniffed the ground. I, too sniffed. Such brilliance goes far beyond belief.