Monday Morning Music Ministry

2-23-26

There. I got the pun (Rhodes Scholar, ha) off my mind. I thought today of roads real and metaphorical, partly because I am charting the itinerary of the postponed honeymoon of Mickey and me, a celebration delayed by an important book deadline, other weddings, and such. We will be taking perhaps a month to visit Ireland, Germany, Austria, France, and Italy.

We will not walk the Appian Way – an ancient road in Rome taken by St Paul to evangelize citizens in the belly of (to Christians of the day) the beast. He first proselytized at the Temple of Agrippa. We will not traverse that long road, except to visit Catacombs, but we will stand where Paul stood. This will not be a real pilgrimage – I have friends who have traced believers’ pilgrimages in Europe and the Holy Land – yet we are choosing significant roads to walk on.

We are all familiar with Robert Frost’s iconic poem The Road Not Taken (often mis-titled The Road Less Traveled). Whether literal or metaphorical, it opens: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood / And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood / And looked down one as far as I could / To where it bent in the undergrowth… We identify.

I also noted, today as I write this, that Neil Sedaka, the soft-rock star of recent decades, has died. Again: Roads. I once attended a publishing conference in Las Vegas and left so early it was morning but more like a Red Eye. In the small waiting lounge at the airport gate was Neil Sedaka, a fave from my teen years. He played Vegas a lot, and also had to fly east early that day. I introduced myself and we got to talking.

By a bizarre coincidence, he lived in my town, Westport CT, so we had things to chat about. When I told him that I recently had interviewed Jimmy Swaggart, Neil lit up. He was a Jew but said he had been watching Swaggart’s TV services and was taken with the Gospel piano of the evangelist (who was also a cousin of Jerry Lee Lewis). The door opened, so to speak, and I shared Christ with him. I never learned what impact my conversation had on him, but I often think of roads that “cross” in such ways in life.

Nicole Shanahan, who was on RFK Jr’s ticket when he ran for president, recently confessed her conversion to Christ. The liberal former convert to Judaism spoke of a miscarriage, a near-death experience, and “opened eyes” about forces of spiritual warfare in America. The day before Trump’s inauguration she was water baptised and declared, “I had to live a lot of life to understand the true significance of trusting in this covenant of Jesus…. In order to fulfill a true relationship with God, it’s this recognition of Jesus as the Messiah.” A road with detours? Yes, but she found her destination.

The best-selling book in the English language after the Bible, we are told, is John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, written 350 years ago, and that never has been out of print, now translated to 200 languages. The entire book traces the journey of Mr Christian (all of its characters are named by their personal traits) from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. Another road… with many tempting detours to places like the Slough of Despond or Vanity Fair. It is a compelling book, with undertones by which all humans can identify. Especially about roads.

The Bible itself is the source of life’s roadmaps, warning signs, and directions. Scripture overflows with references to roads, paths, and ways to proceed through life. We all know how to ask strangers for directions; and many of us have GPS. That’s OK to attend your cousin’s retirement party, but not for God’s will for our lives. He charts our paths.

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. But the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.

Thus says the Lord: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.”

My people have forgotten me; they make offerings to false gods; they made them stumble in their ways, in the ancient roads, and to walk into side roads, not the highway.

I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Way of Holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it. It shall belong to those who walk on the way.

There is a road that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.

I mentioned detours. Sometimes we can take alternate routes, or scenic drives, or choose to wander in some way, eventually to find our way home. That’s fine, as I said, except when it comes to God’s strongly stated destination. He does not allow us to stray an inch. Why would we? Yet… many do. Mr Christian was a Pilgrim, but he knew it was his duty to make progress. Not right in life, nor left; not backtracking but forward; not your own destination, but God’s.

On His travel plans for each of us, GPS means to stay on God’s Perfect Street.

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Click: Gospel Legends – Highway To Heaven

10-11-21

One of the most familiar and quoted American poems of the Twentieth Century – after advertising jingles – is Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood / And looked down one as far as I could / To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there / Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay / In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

Frost’s poem, at least the first and last phrases, frequently are quoted. And it often is misidentified as “The Road Less Traveled,” which title lends an air of misty fatalism instead of melancholic speculation… or a dozen other meanings. Not that Frost intentionally invited more analysis than depicting an everyday happenstance common to humanity. But one scholar, Dr David Orr, wrote a whole book deconstructing the poem. At the other end of the spectrum (and not likely addressing Frost) Dr Yogi Berra stated his unique view: “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

I have been thinking about Frost’s ubiquitous imagery and symbolism (for surely he intended to evoke larger contexts). In our contemporary world, especially in America, there is so much argumentation and accusations and anger that an observer might assume that neat and clear Divisions reign amongst us; that there are two camps continuously at loggerheads. Friends or enemies, black and white, right or wrong.

Yet society’s divisions are not bifurcations – not dealing with “two sides to every story.” In practice these days, many issues are rhetorical reticulations: multi-faceted, as discernible as little cracks in a windshield, as easy to trace as strands of cotton candy. To return to our analogy, roads in a yellow wood that are overgrown by tangled brambles and vines. Most “debates” I hear these days are subsumed by ferocious tangents.

I try to keep Christ’s example as my lodestar; not to be judgmental, but for discernment, or to learn new viewpoints, or perhaps have an opportunity to witness. Even, or especially, when non-spiritual questions arise. It’s not always easy. A friend this week asked my opinion about whether to attend the funeral of an estranged in-law. Two roads diverge? Ask Yogi Berra. Not all questions are right or wrong from a Christian perspective. We can try to apply that perspective, however.

More seriously, a dilemma was shared with me recently. A friend who is an airline pilot and opposed to the Vaccine is threatened with dismissal and all that would portend, if he does not submit. This is more than a question of conscience: it is a question of livelihood. Athletes on charter flights take off masks in the terminal, and on the field, as do tens of thousands of spectators. Their jobs are not threatened. Two roads diverge in a yellow wood.

His is not necessarily a Christian dilemma, although proponents of the two alternatives might make cases. America has gotten to the point where people argue about a thousand little things, then torture themselves over two clear choices. I have many friends, from congenital skeptics to my own doctor, who vehemently oppose the Vaccine. The System is forcing us to make excruciating choices despite ourselves. And we are threatened.

Some choices we make willingly or with insouciance, even on matters recently regarded as grave. Another friend whom I have admired, and assisted, on public issues we zealously pursued, just abandoned them because they “have not gained traction”… with hardly a test of traction. I cannot criticize those choices, when a hundred factors might be at play. People are choosing, in political matters, whether to compromise or resist. Increasingly, we come to roads diverging on our pathways that once seemed straight and clear.

It is not only COVID but dozens of issues. Local school board meetings have become battlegrounds, and our own government is calling concerned parents “terrorists.” The internet should be allowed to censor and spy? We are to be under suspicion for having more than $600 in bank accounts? Can we call politicians murderers when they want to allow babies to be killed? Oh, that’s hate speech… but all we’re doing is trying to love babies.

The Lord knows I do not condemn my friends with whose choices I disagree. I have made tough decisions, and probably am making some wrong decisions right now. That is one reason God instituted prayer; and a reason that we have friends, and cherish friendships. Let us be charitable and generous to each other in these awful times.

But for Christ’s sake, literally, let us think and pray when we come to moral forks in the road.

Do you remember that old saying about not understanding someone unless we can walk a mile in their shoes? We should imagine others’ choices, not only our own, when the roads of life diverge before us.

And maybe, more often than we are used to, we can walk down those roads together.

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Click: When I Get To The End Of The Way