It’s probably more than a pet peeve. Actually, it’s fairly serious. And I’ve said this for more than 28 years in front of the high schoolers that come to camp here at Christmount.
I’m a guitar player and occasional singer (my wife is the real singer in the family, and I’ve always been some kind of musician, so I’m reticent to say “singer” in talking about myself). Growing up in the 60’s and graduating from high school in the early 70’s, I was, as many of us were, influenced by folk singers and protest singers and the “message music” of musicians like Simon and Garfunkel, Peter, Paul, and Mary, Arlo Guthrie, Crosby Stills and Nash, and so many others.
So, I’m standing with my guitar in front of a bunch of high schoolers about 20 years ago, and someone asks me to sing a peace song. My brain rushes into the old archives searching: “Draft Dodger Rag,” by Phil Ochs; “Where Have all the Flowers Gone, by Pete Seeger and Joe Hickerson; “Golden Ribbons,” by Jim Messina; “For What It’s Worth,” by Stephen Stills, “Oh, Camille,” by Graham Nash; and so many others. I settled on “Where Have all the Flowers Gone,” and it’s become one of the most-requested songs for me at high school camp bonfires since then.
I introduced the song this way:
I’ve been singing this song since I was your age. It makes me sick to still be singing it in a world that hasn’t got the brains to figure out how to end all this hatred and all these wars. I mean, we can build computers that hold the Library of Congress in a device the size of our palms; we have communication devices that make Captain Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise look like they are living in the Stone Age. But we cannot, no , we REFUSE to stop hating each other. So I’m gonna ask you to please, please, make a world where I don’t have to keep singing these songs. Make a world that is different.
Well, those may not be my exact words, but that is what I conveyed that night, and usually these days I just mumble something like, “I hate that I keep having to sing this song because no one has figured this stuff out yet.” “What stuff, Jamie?” “Peace.”
Oh.
I read today that famous quote, “Insanity can be defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
John Lennon said it well, “All we are saying is give peace a chance.”
Peace, of course, includes feeding the hungry (especially the children), housing the homeless (oh, no: let’s build more million-dollar houses into the sides of mountains to increase our tax base!), looking after the elderly and sick, disarming ourselves, helping those with psychological problems, and sharing the wealth. Cleaning up the environment would be nice along the way. Stopping hating folks because of skin pigment would be a great place to start. And the list goes on. After all, what else do we really have to do with our lives?
I’m not guiltless in any of this, by the way. But every now and then, something (some One), makes me stop and think.
I just thought I’d share it with you.
About jamiebrame
Greetings, fellow earthlings. I'm the retired Program Director at Christmount, the national retreat, camp, and conference center of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), in Black Mountain, NC. From September 2019 through October, 2020, I served Timberlake Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Lynchburg, VA, as interim minister. After taking more than a year off, First Christian Church (DoC), Wilson, NC, offered me the position of Interim Minister, beginning May 10, 2022.
Originally from Eden, NC, I graduated from John Motley Morehead High School, earned a BA in Religion and Philosophy at Atlantic Christian College (now Barton College), and eked out a Master of Divinity from the Divinity School at Duke University. I served, in various positions, churches (part time and full time) in North Carolina and Georgia, and have lived in Black Mountain, NC, since 1989. I married Renae in 1992 (she refers to these years as "looooooooooong" years.
I've spent the past 50 years or so trying to practice Christian contemplative prayer with some touches of Zen meditation to help the journey along. Married to a wife who is much holier than I am, I am fortunate to learn from her daily about how to do this thing called spirituality. Being an ordained minister doesn't make me holy (but occasionally, as you'll read, a little sanctimonious, so forgive me in advance!); but I hope that I put my education to good use.
I'd love to be considered a spiritual teacher, but I know myself too well to claim that. While I do a bit of teaching, I think the best teaching we do is when we remain silent (the old desert abba said something like, "if you won't learn from my silence, you won't learn from my talking"). But silence shouldn't turn into quietism, and we do have to speak out and act for justice and fairness and equality for all.
I frequently ask myself the question, "Does it matter?" about the major - and minor - issues of the day. What I think matters: love for God, equality, fairness, loving our neighbor, feeding hungry people, housing homeless ones, clothing naked ones, and especially caring for children; basically, caring for those who have some trouble caring for themselves. AND our relationship with God.
What doesn't matter: what you think of me. I'm not very Christ-like. You won't hear me talking about all the things I do for others, or all the things I do for God - I was taught that It's not about me, and using good works to get attention for myself isn't what Christian faith is about - look up "narcissism" on Google. I'm not sure Jesus thinks it matters much that I am like him or not, but I do. The old story from the rabbis is probably apropo: when I am hauled up before God at the end of time, God isn't going to ask me why I wasn't more like someone else: I will be asked why I wasn't more like me. The rabbis tell the story better.
I'm still a work in progress, as Renae will attest to.
Finally, I just hope that something you read here will make you think. Use what you can, ignore the rest. Go read some of the desert saints. Read the classics. Take care of people, never point to yourself, and don't follow me: I'm just hoping to be one more signpost to God.
And as one friend reminded me the week before I left Christmount, "It matters."
Oh, and my favorite color is probably blue, and I love cats, and I love my wife's music. I don't like beets.
Does It Matter 
I ‘ve known you a very long time & have always respected you & your many talents. TeresaAnd yes….so much matters…yesterday. today & tomorrow….it mattered & & it matters today! Faith, love & peace still matter. Friendships( even when we rarely see each other) matter. I know I am speaking any profound words, just honest & sincere. Take car, my friend, know someone out here loves you & keep on being who you are….you are a good soul!! Love’ya!!