My Dad - Arnold

Dad was a farmer. Just an average farmer at the time when a man could raise a family on a small dairy farm and never work a job off the farm.  He was not a mechanic, but he and brother Len could fix the combine with the most rudimentary of tools when it broke down in the field; he was not a carpenter, but he could hammer together a chicken house with a little help from neighbor Clarence; he was not a horseman, but he know all about untangling harnesses and how to hook up Jiggs and Maggie to pull a load of just about anything; he was not a writer, but his penmanship was classical and sometimes wisdom came out of his mouth like bits of poetry; he was not musical, but delighted in whistling a tune and worshiping God through the old hymns in church as he mouthed the words almost inaudibly; he wasn’t well-read, but did read two newspapers a day and listened to the news three times a day; he was never prosperous, but had a deep appreciation for the fertility of the soil and land of which he was a faithful steward, and for the richness of good conversation, his family’s happiness and for his community.  So, dad was not good at much, but he was excellent as a neighbor, husband, brother, and especially as a dad. 

Training Tupence

Over the years Judy gained the reputation in our family for her ability to train the dogs we have owned. All of them, from Cocker Spaniels Rocky and Anne, to Natcha the chow, cross-breeds like the huge Beckett, and Adricc, our faithful Corgi, were well-behaved and pleasant companions to live with. For over ten years of outings in the mountains and valleys of Montana, Adricc never strayed off the path and always did his best to keeps us together.  The herding instinct he was born with meant he was happiest when his people, Judy and I, didn’t get separated on the trail.  Obedience and loyalty are characteristics we like in a dog.  

So far Tupence is a different story.  She entered our lives in late March, the day before the stay at home order was implemented in Montana due to the corona virus pandemic.  We “rescued” her. She was a tiny two-month old mixture; her mother half Corgi and half Fox Terrier and who knows about the father.  She is the highest energy dog we’ve ever had, and gets totally distracted by every thing that comes across her way or into her view – people, leaves, bicyclers, and especially other dogs. She has become very bonded to us, but is totally deaf to our calls, scolding, or bribes. 



Now she is four and a half months, so perhaps we shouldn’t expect too much, but obedience and following commands do not seem to be in her nature. The other day she ran wildly into the street barking at a very large though calm German Shepherd.  Judy and I looked like elderly clowns running around trying to corral her.  


I think most dogs are trainable – i.e. learn not to jump up on people, come when called and walk alongside of rather then pulling their master along.  

The reason we humans keep pets are pretty well known or assumed.  I worked for years with a program that placed domesticated animals with families all over the world.  Domesticated animals provide multiple benefits for humans, among them the provision of food like milk and meat, and fiber for clothing.  Early humans domesticated animals as living tools – as draft animals to pull implements and carts, and as herders and hunters.  But our ancestors surely recognized other benefits as well. Many animals provide comfort as companions.  It is well accepted that pets relieve stress and they keep us from being lonely.  Think of all the useful ways animals are put to use for therapy and as service animals. 

I know already one of the most important benefits Tupence brings to us.  We laugh a lot at her antics and frolicking, and that is a good enough reason for us. Definitely important to keep fun and humor in our lives as old people while we live shut up at home most of the time during this corona pandemic.

We’ll keep her even if we can’t train her!!  

Old Songs for an Old Man

For some months I have used a book by Richard H Schmidt to meditate on some of classic hymns of the Church.  There are 40 of these hymns in this book, Sing to the Lord an Old Song: Meditations on Classic Hymns, (Forward Movement, Cincinnati, Ohio, 2019).  

Most mornings I read the texts of each hymn, trying to concentrate on the message and recreate the tune from my memory.  Schmidt provides  reflections on each stanza which usually speak to my own soul's needs and wonderings. I find it quite instructive to read the short blurb about the author of the hymn, and the composer of the tune (never the same person).  I am curious about the historical context and relevance of the hymn and why might it have endured and meant so much to so many for so long - in many cases for centuries.  

Then with the use of technology there is the added advantage of listening on my I-Phone to wonderful recordings of most of these hymns by dialing them up on You-tube.  I prefer choral renditions accompanied by organ or orchestra. Altogether, this reading and listening guides my morning prayers, and the tune frequently stay with me as I find myself humming and singing the first lines of the hymn a couple of hours later.  

I am drawn to these traditional hymns because of the richness of their poetry and soundness of theology as well as the emotional responses that arise within my heart from the music. Even as I know some of these hymns by heart from the many times I've sung them in worship, often since childhood, there are a number of them that were new to me. I was glad to make their acquaintance. 

The first line in Schmidt's Preface says it well for me, "Tears don't often come to my eyes in church, but when they do, it's usually because of a hymn - not a sermon, not a biblical or liturgical text, not the beauty of the architecture or the stained-glass window, but a song."  

Preferring the old and classic hymns puts me in the category of my (older) generation who choose "traditional" as compared to "contemporary" worship settings.  It is not that I don't like to sing "praise" or "renewal" songs.  In fact, I sometimes like to strum my guitar and sing these songs, especially Taize, alone or along with others.  But, as the only music used in liturgical worship,  I sometimes find the repetitive and stock phrases of praise songs to lack the depth and challenge of classical hymnody and writing.  I especially object to their use as performance during worship.  I find that the poetry and composition of classic hymns lends itself to reflection and meditation, and especially to prayer.  I very much dislike the thought that these time-tested hymns may be becoming lost as churches search for ways to be "relevant" and grab the attention of the next generations.  I believe that people of all generations seek deep and meaningful ways to relate to and be with the divine presence, and the old songs should be in the mix of our human attempts to worship and commune with our God.

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