Someone Has A Dream

The concept of having a dream for the future of our church, whether in the local congregation or on the broader denominational scale, is one that has been claimed for centuries of church history. Most biblical references to dreams are rooted in the actual dream world, a time when the barriers and boundaries of wakened thought are released, and our subconscious thoughts can be accessed, but often contemporary leaders use the “I have a dream” sentence stem to articulate their vision for the future of the church and the world around it.

 

The most famous “I Have a Dream” statement comes from Martin Luther King Jr. who addressed a crowd of 250,000 at the March on Washington for Freedom and Jobs in 1963. History reports that King almost did not speak those words out loud on that day, having been urged by staff members not to use that speech, labeling it “hackneyed and trite.” But as he spoke, gospel singer Mahalia Jackson called out to King, "Tell 'em about the dream, Martin." King proceeded to outline his dream for a country where every valley would be exalted, and every hill and mountain would be made whole, a land where his children would one day be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. King had a vision of a world radically different from the world he’d experienced, and now, fifty years later, much of that dream has been realized, although we still have miles to go before we sleep.

 

It is in that context that I read the words of Salvation Army international leader, General Andre Cox, as he has articulated his dream, his vision, for the future of the Salvation Army. A posting of this dream on his Facebook page has brought an enthusiastic response from hundreds of people around the world. Here are his words:

 

I dream of a committed, effective and joyful Army, rooted and confident in the word of God and on its knees.

I dream of an Army that truly reflects the mind of Jesus in our commitment to the poor and the marginalised.

I dream of an Army that practices what it preaches from the top leadership down, an Army that is a visible and living example of Kingdom values.

I dream of an Army that values its youth where our young people feel that they have a voice.

I dream of an Army with strong relevant and streamlined administrative structures and a much more effective use of our financial and material resources.

I dream of an Army where all cultures are equally accepted and celebrated through the spiritual ties that bind us all together.

I dream of an Army that shuns the dependency culture.

Reading them this morning, I felt compelled to make some comments on Cox’s words. First, warning is given throughout the scriptures as to the ability of persuasive people to “sell their dreams to those around them,” as was noted in Jeremiah. Therefore, when I hear the phrase, “I have a dream,” I see a yellow flag of caution that reminds me to check my dream or that of another against what I know to be true of God, people, and the world as informed through the teachings of the Bible and the experience of life as a follower of Jesus. Before we jump on this bandwagon or drink any kool-aid, we need to test this dream against what we understand to be the Wesleyan Quadrilateral, that of Scripture (first), tradition, reason and experience. A cursory reading doesn’t reveal any major problems, but I’d like to know more of what Cox means by the term “dependency culture” and how kingdom values are defined.

A second comment is that I would love to see the fourth statement expanded to reflect an Army where people of all ages – and ranks – know that they have a voice. While I recognize the desire to embrace youth (and the importance of that for the Army’s future), there are other marginalized groups within Salvation Army culture who need to know, and not just feel, that they have a voice within the organization. As an example from the setting of King’s famous speech, initial plans for that rally had not included the voice of a woman, even though women were heavily involved in the civil rights movement. Anna Arnold Hedgeman, the only woman on the planning committee, fought for the inclusion of women on that program, and so we now have these experiential words of Josephine Baker: “You know I have always taken the rocky path. I never took the easy one, but as I get older, and as I knew I had the power and the strength, I took that rocky path, and I tried to smooth it out a little."

Articulating a vision is crucial. Selling it to its stakeholders in the world in which we live is a challenge. Yet moving from the dream world to reality is critical. For King, his commitment to his dream ended in his assassination, but was carried forth by those who believed in the power of the dream. For Jorge Mario Bergoglio, his vision is causing much disruption in the Catholic Church, as noted in this week’s Washington Post: “[Pope] Francis is “a remarkable man, no one would deny that,” Royal said. “But I’m not sure if he cares about being accurate. He gets into an [evangelizing] dynamic with people and that seems to be the most important thing. . . . In some ways it makes people very anxious. If you do this, what’s the next thing?””

It remains to be seen how Cox will move from vision to reality, but I have to hope that whatever that movement looks like, he’ll make some people anxious, because that is how change occurs. Sitting at my computer in Ashland, Ohio, I can only hope and pray that he will target these dreams in broad strokes that won’t get buried in committees, but that will change the face of the Salvation Army for the ages, to the glory of God.

A Purple Carpet

As I put the recycling on the curb this morning, I stared at our front lawn with amazement. The grass has been green for a few weeks now, with three trims already this spring, but today, our front yard was carpeted with purple. Hundreds of wild violets had sprung up overnight, joined by the bright yellow of their dandelion sisters, and I am absolutely delighted! Those April showers really were raining violets!

My husband doesn’t share my delight, however, for the lawn perfectionist I’m married to expects to see green, not purple and yellow. How can I find a way to sabotage the lawnmower for a few days so I can enjoy the kiss of color Mother Nature spread across our lawn?

Spring has also brought a parade of ants to our kitchen counter and office window ledge. I’m not quite as welcoming to them as I am to the violets, but they have been fascinating to watch for a few seconds before I send them to the Great Beyond. I’ve even seen a few trying to drag away the corpse of one of their siblings – I’m not sure what they planned to do with the body, but I didn’t give them a chance to express either their grief or cannibalistic tendencies. Since I don’t want them in my food or crawling up my arm, I’ve become an ant-buster, banishing them from my home with a vengeance.

While  spraying the ledges and squashing the wandering ants, I catch myself humming a few bars of The Ants Go Marching One by One song, a favorite of the lovely Madelyn Simone. At age 3, she’s at the stage where she gets fixated on a favorite song (The Ants), story (The Napping House) or movie (Wreck It Ralph). On our trip back to her house in Canton last week, we sang along with the Ants song nineteen times. Yes, I counted.

It’s been twenty years since I spent much time with a three-year-old, and I am seeing the world through a new set of eyes. Ants are fascinating friends, as are rocks, puddles, and tiny violets. A piece of ABC gum stuck to the supermarket floor demands an investigation, while bubbles dancing in the sunshine captivate our granddaughter for a long, long time. In her concentration, singing the same song or ‘reading’ the same book over and over again, she becomes familiar with one thing, not bombarded with the multitude of daily sound-bites that multiply faster than the violets or the ants.

I am learning some marvelous lessons as I sense the world through Madelyn’s eyes. I found a quote by Walt Streightiff who tells us there are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child – there are seven million wonders. I tried to find him on the internet without success, but I’m convinced he must be a grandparent to know that. He’s absolutely correct – everything Madelyn sees begs to be touched, everything she touches demands to be explored, and everything she explores is to be regarded with awe and wonder. As Jodi Picoult describes it, “kids think with their brains cracked wide open,” a perfect description of wonder.

So where have we gone wrong as we’ve grown into adulthood? Where have we lost our sense of wonder? If, as Margaret Wolfe Hungerford is credited with saying, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” why have we – why have I – been willing to accept our culture’s definitions of beauty? I really do want to know who decided that manicured lawns were more desirable than flower-strewn meadows.

As I was finishing up this column, I heard the revving of the lawnmower engine, and I now know that my plea to save the innocent violets fell on deaf ears. I just hope they grow again in time for Madelyn’s next visit. If you happen to see the two of us on our front lawn, you’re welcome to come and sit a spell, take your shoes off, and join us as we count the delicate purple petals, wiggle our bare feet in the grass, and blow the dandelion snow into the sky.