Category Archives: art

✚ Lessons in Stone (Dennis Aubrey) ✚

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✚ Lessons in Stone (Dennis Aubrey) ✚.

Dennis Aubrey’s “Lessons in Stone” took me back three years ago.

I’m sitting in a small room with a Benedictine monk at St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville, MN. It’s the first of six private meetings over a three day silent retreat.

“What brings you here?” asks the spiritual guide. “My step-daughter is dying of cancer.” “What is her name?” “Katherine.” How old is Katherine?” “Thirty-three. She was diagnosed four years ago with Leiomyosarcoma, a rare incurable sarcoma, and is now in her last months in hospice care.”

“So what troubles you? Are you afraid for the state of her soul?” “No,” I respond quickly. “Not at all. It’s not about that. God is Love. I don’t believe in hell.”

“Hmmm,” said the monk. “I see. Interesting. Our tradition says that there is a hell, but that the likelihood is that there’s nobody in it.”

The centerpiece of the tympanum that captured the attention of the little Danish boy in Dennis’ “Lessons in Stone” is the scene of God’s hand reaching to pull Saint Foy toward heaven.

You don’t have to believe in hell as an eternal state to cry out for release from its torments here and now, or to pray for a peace that passes all understanding.

Brubeck, Hirt, and Respighi

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Verse — We Never Played Rock ‘n’ Roll

I’d take a couple of LPs (they’d spin
at 33 and a third RPM)
and bike down the concrete sidewalk–not in
the street that’s made of brick. I’d dodge the limb
of the old elm in front of Katie’s house
and fly around the corner at the T
to where Paul lived. Two other high school guys
left bikes by the garage. We’d holler, “Hi!”
to Mrs. Duker and head downstairs to where
Paul’s dad had a great stereo. We’d play
some Brubeck or Al Hirt–we loved to hear
the “modern”jazz of the ’50s. We’d stay
and listen to Respighi’s Pines of Rome.
Band guys: we never wanted to go home…

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, March 8, 2013

Beyonce on the floor of Congress

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Congressional leaders are singing off key, inviting a national food fight. They want us to believe they’re soul-singers. But the sound is wooden. No heart. No soul. Instead we hear only of sequestration, protestation, damnation, remonstration, and gyration, but no gestation, no universal gun registration. Only sequestration.

Bring in Beyoncé! “Swing low, sweet chariot, coming fo’ to carry me home. I looked over Jordan and what did I see? A band of angels comin’ after me, comin’ fo’ to carry me home.”

If you agree that Congress is acting like the prisoners before Beyoncé came to their rescue, send this link to your Congressional Representatives. Tell ’em Paul Robeson, Johnny Cash, Etta James, and Beyoncé told you to. 🙂

Trumpeter Swans

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Trumpeter Swans, Hudson, WI

Trumpeter Swans, Hudson, WI


Soaring, swooning,
Pining, preening,
Spreading wings,
Trumpeting,
Wooing, wanting,
Playing, pairing,
Synchronized swimmers
Spoon for life.

– Gordon C. Stewart, Chaska, MN, March 6, 2013; Photo by Kay Stewart

Jazz – the language of love and awe

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“Who is your favorite jazz pianist?”

“Bill Evans,” came the quick reply from Ted Godbout, the jazz pianist who came to us out of the blue as a candidate for the music position at the little church in Chaska, MN where jazz is the language of love and awe.

In the news Michael Jordan is defending himself against a young man’s claim that he is Air Jordan’s “love child” who deserves more of Michael’s time. Listening to Ted Godbout at his audition, I wondered….

We sent Ted’s DNA to the lab for testing :-). He’s that good. And only 29! Ted leads the music at Shepherd of the Hill for the first this Sunday, March 10.

Extracts from the Visitors page of the church website speak of the language of jazz.

Imagine a place…

a church, actually, your church,……

where it is a safe place to land, for a bit of time

while you marvel….

and wonder, and revel in

love…..

and justice…..

and mercy….

where the questions get clearer and

better questions replace them….

where your heart burns to return

Again and again……

where jazz is the language of love……

and love, the language of

Awe…….

where God is a three letter word again….

spoken to soothe your tired feet…

On your journey of becoming

more of who Love intended you to be,

(since you have heard it said, “fear not….”)

An Acrostic on Jazz improvisation

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Steve Shoemaker sent this today after learning that Ted Godbout, an outstanding jazz pianist, is joining us at Shepherd of the Hill Church in Chaska.

PENTECOST
(TO BE READ ALOUD)
An Acrostic

Perhaps a jazz improvisation says

Exactly what is thinkable about

New life, fresh breath…the Holy Spirit. Has

There ever been a music without doubt

Except jazz? Faith, improvisation cause

Circles of sound to rise and fly throughout

Our cosmos. Tongues of flame are seen on heads

Singing or playing solos. Then without

Time passing–a new language: Jesus! Jazz!

– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL

Harry Bellafonte: Sing your Song

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What did you learn in school today?

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Pete Seeger and song-writer Tom Paxton get the last word on this Friday.

Tribute to Miriam Makeba

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Like Nelson Mandella, like Desmond Tut, like Martin Luther King, Jr., like Sojourner Truth…there is only one Miriam Makeba.

“Mama Africa” won a Grammy Award for “the Click song” (a Xhosa wedding song), so unique to western ears, that made her famous in the United States. But in South Africa she was more than a performer. She was a Civil Rights activist, a national hero, who paid a high price in the movement to end Apartheid and bring majority rule to her South African homeland. Her passport was cancelled. Her music was banned from being played or bought in South Africa. She was in exile for 30 years. There is nothing more dangerous than a human voice, and the South African regime knew it. Like Pete Seeger, whose “God’s Countin’ on Me” was posted here yesterday, Miriam was a voice of hope in the struggle for racial justice all over the world. She died at the age of 76 while performing in Italy on November 10, 2008.

Thank you, Miriam Makeba. “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Rest in Peace.

A song for the weary soul

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Listen to the spiritual that soothed the mind and heart of The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. when he was rebuked and scorned. Sit back and feel the music sung by Odetta.