Class of...

We had our graduation ceremonies last Saturday at the school where I work. The school is a college prepatory school, therefore not as big as the public schools in my city. Our graduation ceremony is a little bit different from any other I've attended in that each graduate has about 20-30 seconds alone on the stage in front of the crowd while all of their accomplishments are read in front of the audience and their fellow classmates. It makes for a long ceremony, but it's actually a pretty neat idea. The graduates get one last moment in front of their class, their teachers, their parents and everyone else in attendance. There is one last synopsis for the crowd, one last affirment for the teachers, one more photo op for the parents and one last moment for the student to hear his/her high school accomplishments. Almost like closing the door behind them. Then they walk to the other side of the stage receive a handshake and a diploma and they are no longer high school students.

I remember my high school graduation nine years ago. Two things stand out about that to me now: 1.) No amount of money would be enough to convince me to be 17 again. 2.) I see no one from my high school graduating class on a consistent basis. I'm not sure what that says about anything at all, but for all the importance and time and effort that goes into growing up, it seems that a person changes more in the four to five years after high school than anytime during primary or secondary education. I think it has a lot to do with meeting new people, becoming independent of parents, becoming more dependent on yourself, and facing your future in a more direct way than you ever had before. You are forced to change or quite possibly you will not succeed.

I chaperoned our school's "Project Graduation" for the second straight year this year. We loaded up all the seniors on two charter buses after graduation and headed to Nashville. We rented a cabin and had dancing and kareoke and food and a cartoonist who was incredibly talented. The students danced and sang and ate and hung out with each other. As I was making my rounds around the property making sure no one had slipped into the woods, I could hear the music playing from in the cabin. I don't remember what song what was playing, but I do remember thinking that this more than likely was the last time everyone of these students would be together at the same time and in the same place again. That's a pretty powerful thought if you let sink in. It's not a sad thought, though. Some of our graduates are going all over the country to try their best to do something positive, some are looking forward to their respective college's football games, and some are just going to party and inevitably they will be back here in January. Whatever the reasons we go to college, we know that after four years (or more) we won't be the same. One last time together with classmates is fun, but it doesn't grow anyone. It's one last time to be together in one place while the world waits patiently. I'm not sure how the Class of 2006 will do, but I suspect it won't feel much different than any class before it.

Church Music

Two weeks ago I bought Bruce Springsteen's new CD, "The Seeger Sessions: We Shall Overcome." It's an album of 13 songs based on the folk music of Pete Seeger. Some of these songs date back to the 1500's, others are negro spirituals that find their origins in the cotton fields of the South sung as prayers of hope. Every song on the album is accompanied by strings and horns played by 17 members of the Seeger Sessions band. The music is alive. It is powerful. You can feel what you are listening to. One apocalyptic song ends with this line, "God gave Noah a rainbow sign, no more water but fire next time. Pharoh's army got drownded, Oh Mary don't you weep." And after that last line, horns blare and cymbals crash and you can feel what the chaos and violence might resemble at the end. It's tangible. It's palpable. It's also unpolished and unvarnished. You're listening to music being made, not produced. Another song that reaches out of the speakers and demands that you feel it is called, "Eyes on the Prize." The first verse is about Paul and Silas being jailed and continuing to keep their faith. This originated as a negro spiritual and was re-worked to be a powerful anthem during the civil rights movement. It is a very deliberate, matter-of-fact song where the author is continuing to press, to fight, to keep his eyes on his goal. It was about focus, but it was more about faith. Faith in doing what he thinks is right, faith in his God that He will deliver him from this bondage. The chorus is simple, "Hold on, hold on, keep your eyes on the prize and hold on." Each time "hold on" is sung it is sung with more conviction, more strength and fortitude than the time before. It's almost as if the singer is trying to convince himself to press on. It is a march, it is purposeful, it is deliberate.

Today in church two ladies sang a song about Paul and Silas in jail and I could not help but notice the absolute chasm between these two songs. Each line in the song this morning was soft, sweet, and full of cliche. There was no urgency, just little pearls of wisdom. I know these ladies sang with a pure heart, but our churches seem to lack grit. They seem to lack any fortitude. We are killing ourselves from the inside out because we are painting the Christian walk as something that is smooth and easy and can be summed in phrases like "Let go and let God." We are losing touch with an outside world and it's reflected in our music, in our way of talking and in our blind faith in an ultra-conservative society. I identify much more with what I hear when I hear the words "hold on" over and over and with stronger and stronger conviction because that's what life is sometimes. You hold on. Keep your eyes on the prize and hold on. Everything else may be in complete disarray, but hold on. Life might hard, but hold on. You might lose someone you love, but hold on. Keep your eyes on the prize and hold on.

The group that got President Bush over the hump in both terms is the Christian conservative right. I probably fall into that category as opposed to any other (although I didn't vote for W). This group consists of upper-middle and upper class white people for the most part. I know that's a generalization, but it is true. The Republican party touts family values as election time approaches and they harp on two issues to get a vote: gay marriage and abortion. And when the CCR hears these two issues they perk up. They take to the streets and damn anyone who wants think otherwise. They celebrate when their man wins and completely ignore the ineptitude when he fails. The largest protestant religious denomination is also mostly made up of these people. The Southern Baptist Convention should receive government payment for the support of the GOP. I am a southern Baptist. I believe the Bible is the inerrant word of God and that Christ is the only way for salvation, I also believe that we have lost sight of what Christ truly taught and are bordering on pharisaical law. And when we sing sweet songs about the Christian walk, we show that no matter how polished and how clean we may seem, we still cannot identify with freedom from bondage like the people who wrote "Eyes on the Prize" can. We cannot identify with Christ for being wrongfully treated because of who he was like the black people from the civil rights movement can. Instead of viewing life as a sweet place where problems are solved with three points in a sermon, maybe we just need to hold on. Hold on. Keep our eyes on the prize and hold on.

Loose Ends

Seasons have distinct feelings...not emotions, but the way they fit into your life. Smells, sounds, light, darkness, etc. Summer feels long, slow moving; dragging along the calendar. Fall is quick, crisp, brilliant. Days get shorter, the air is thinner. Winter just hangs there, suspended like the gray clouds in January (that was a little too much, sorry), but you get my point. Spring just pops and it's there one morning. White buds blend to green leaves and it's over. Seasons are distinct and that's their beauty. As a school teacher, there are different seasons all together. There are times of the year that you love and times that you hate...May is a time to hate.

You see, May is the busiest month of the year. Final Exams, AP tests, prom, awards day, graduation, etc. All the loose ends being tied up as fast as they can. Students looking forward to the next step in their life, looking forward to the next 4-6 years as preparation for entrance to the "real world". Let's be honest though, that phrase ("real world") should be discontinued and never spoken or written again. Some students are nostalgic, but most are impatient and ready to move on. And they take their exams, fill out their cap and gown size, get their prom pictures developed, show them off, wear their college shirts on the designated day, think there is no class as good as the class of '06, walk to the stage, get the diploma while their tassel hangs loosely on the side of their cap. Then it ends.

If seasons have feelings then May feels loose to me. Two months ago I hurt my knee playing basketball and even after three weeks, when there was no pain, my knee had no stability. It felt as if it were floating inside my leg. That's the best way I can describe the month of May. Kind of like saying, "I'm not quite sure which direction everything will go, but we're giving it our best shot." It's that kind of month. We'll get there for sure, I just don't know how. Our kids that we're sending off to college and beyond: they'll get there, we just don't know how it's going happen, but we know it's going to happen. The loose ends will be tied and they'll be ready to move once again.