Remembering Monaei

Last week I happened to hear "Gentle on My Mind," (John Hartman & Glen Campbell,) and I was struck by the opening lyrics:

"It's knowing that your door is always open
And your path is free to walk
That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag
Rolled up and stashed behind your couch
And It's knowing I'm not shackled 
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line
That keeps you in the backroads
By the rivers of my mem'ry
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind." 

As the church moves toward being a "welcoming and affirming" community, I imagined that "your door" could refer to the church or to Jesus or to Monaei.  We have the opportunity as Peter did toward Cornelius to open our arms to all who wish to join us on this journey of faith.  Monaei embodied such hospitality all her life with us.

Toward the end of the song are images that call to mind sharing communion: 

"I dip my cup of soup back from the gurglin'
Cracklin' cauldron in some train yard" 

"Through cupped hands 'round a tin can
I pretend I hold you to my breast and find
That you're waving from the backroads
By the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smilin' gentle on my mind." 


-- John Arnett (with a tip of the hat to Greg Pope)