Forgive Our Foolish Ways

As you read this I will be away from the Campus and enjoying some time in Britain. I will be making the most of escaping the heat, spending time with family and friends and enjoying the British delicacies not available in Arizona.

For anyone, a journey back home is mixed with nostalgia. I will be driving along the roads on which I first learned to drive and seeing the places and people who helped to shape and influence me. It will be a trip down memory lane. I will also be occupying a new role in one of those familiar places after having been invited to preach at the church I attended throughout my childhood. Rather than being the child sitting in the pew hoping for a short sermon, I shall be the preacher perched aloft in the pulpit looking out over the children probably holding hopes similar to mine when I was in their seat.

I sang in the choir of that church and so, during the summer, was often called upon to sing at weddings. I distinctly remember the wedding where the bride couldn't stop sneezing. The wedding where the groom fainted also understandably sticks in my mind. But I also remember the wedding ceremony which began with the hymn ‘Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways.' Even as a child at the time, the humor of that beginning was not lost on me. The words to that hymn are taken from a much longer poem written by the American Quaker poet, John Greenleaf Whittier. A prolific hymnwriter, almost all of Whittier's 500 hymns have been consigned to the dusty shelves of choir libraries, with the notable exception of ‘Dear Lord and Father of mankind'. Perhaps that is because of its prayerful words, the sentiments of which are felt by us still today.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness, till all our strivings cease. Take from our souls the strain and stress, and let our ordered lives confess the beauty of Thy peace. Breathe through the heats of our desire Thy coolness and Thy balm; Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;

Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire, O still, small voice of calm.

I may not be able to remember all the sermons that I heard while sitting in that church, but I do remember encountering the beauty of God's peace and presence, and that still small voice of calm.

We all sometimes feel as though we are being shaken in an earthquake of upheaval. The winds of change can sometimes blow fiercely and unwanted around us. The fire of hatred and division can seem at times to burn unabated in the world. And yet, through change and chance, God is with us. May we all hear that still small voice of calm in our lives. May we find our stress and worry relieved, our foolish ways forgiven.*

Author Info: Andrew Moore

Chaplain Andrew is the Associate Chaplain here at the Campus. Before relocating to Arizona in 2014, Andrew lived and studied in the United Kingdom. Andrew was ordained in the Anglican Church and has worked in a variety of parishes.