"What is Expected?: Listen & Ponder."
Neal Hagberg
Sunday, February 17th 2008

Understanding is the beginning of compassion. -Thich Nhat Hanh

song:
THE NOOSE

I looked the girl in the eyes
She could have been my daughter
I pulled the trigger, closed my eyes
And cut her down like water
What do you do, some of these people are nuts
And we are tense and tired
When she came walking up to me
I thought that she was wired

This is not what I do back at home
I teach science to seventh graders
But no one knows the chemistry
That turns us into haters
All I wanted was a little extra cash
You know teachers don't make a killing
A few reservist weekend stints
To save for college for my children

I'm alive and she is not
This world is one soul lighter
But she is pressing down on me
And I can't breathe and I can't see
The noose is getting tighter

I'm walking in a dream tonight
She's walking there beside me
She smiles and reaches out a hand
I think she came to guide me
But her hand has turned to blood
And it's all over my hands
I wake up in a pool of sweat
In a land that isn't my land

Repeat Chorus

I'm just trying to do what is best
I'm just trying to follow orders
I'm just trying to help these people out
While I'm dodging goddamned mortars

What do you think one of these crazies would do
If they faced down my daughter
Would they risk it all and trust her smile
Or cut her down like water

Repeat Chorus

I looked the girl in the eyes, I looked the girl in the eyes, I looked that girl in the eyes

words and music by Neal Hagberg
c2005 Uncle Gus Music/BMI
www.nealandleandra.com

Three years ago I was never so scared in my life, for any song I ever sang. It was Memorial Weekend. Here. I had just written this song and was about to sing it for Sunday Mass. I was pacing back in the hall. I was beside myself with anxiety, which, actually, isn’t out of the ordinary for me, because I’m beside myself with anxiety trying to decide what cereal to eat in the morning.

I was losing my nerve. Then I saw Jim Cassidy. Though I am not a Catholic by trade, he is my Father Confessor. I know whenever he sees me, he thinks, oh, no, here comes Neal again. But it was too late for him to avoid my eyes. He was caught. I ushered him into the back room and told him the song and my concern about swearing in church, but how it’s the only word that fit because if god damns anything, it is mortars, it is the instruments of violence we use on each other. But I did not want to offend, and certainly didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. Jim said ‘I don’t know, maybe you should soften it and ...’ I could see the look in his eye again saying ‘why do we let this guy in the place anyway?’ He left the room and me.

A few minutes later he returned. “Sing the song. Sing the song the way you wrote it. You do what you need to do.’

I hope I don’t get you in trouble for that, Jim. You’ll be in Africa; they won’t be able to find you. It’s funny, but isn’t that what we all worry about? What will ‘they’ say? And you know who ‘they’ are. Anyone who wields enough power to strike fear in our hearts. ‘They’ are ‘us.’

The songs I wrote for It's Not As Simple As It Seems are about putting a human face on the suffering, which takes the songs out of an 'issue' like homophobia, war, fundamentalism, poverty, abortion, and into a person's own experience, where we wrestle with our own questions.

It is a Good Friday project, so to speak. I actually see hope in Good Friday. It names the suffering I want to turn away from. Without going into suffering, Easter has no meaning to me.

The concert I will be doing here next Sunday is one of the hardest things I think I will ever have to put together, because there will be some walks through darkness during the night, but not darkness for the sake of darkness, but darkness for the sake of illumination. Hopefully, it will be a night where the suffering in the songs is balanced with a vision of what is possible. And, a couple of really funny jokes....

Which is why the night scares me, because it could be a complete disaster, but it's why it exhilarates me, too, because there is no place I would rather fail disastrously than at St. Joan’s. Lucky you.

Listen and ponder. That is the Lenten theme today. But listen to whom?

When Mel White, a Christian man who happens to be gay, was prevented from speaking here about Soul Force - his non-violent organization created to bring dialogue to the Christian community about gay and lesbian inclusion - I was invited to sing a love song I wrote about a lesbian couple living their ordinary life with kids. What were you thinking letting me do that?

Last year, lamenting the exclusion of women from the full participation in the work of God, and lamenting our inability to see the hurt we do to all people - men and women and children - by only uplifting the masculine images of God, Leandra sang ‘She.’ What were you thinking supporting that? And what were you thinking singing the Mother God hymn last week?

I have a vision that someday I will be able to take these songs into fundamental congregations. To ask them their experience of the songs and to listen to their experience with an open heart. But the first place to sing them was here, where even if someone didn’t agree with it, they welcomed me wherever I was on my journey. I would like to be welcomed in that way by fundamentalists. But, more importantly, I would like to welcome them in the same way. The grounding for that starts here.

Listen to whom? Listen to a community of love.

I have been asked so many times by friends and colleagues ‘Why do you need to do this CD?’ Let me tell you a secret, which you would know if you got to know me for ten minutes. I want to be liked. It has been the over arching desire and goal of my life. I am the good Lutheran golden boy (then golden, now going grey, aging, losing hair, middle aged man.... please someone stop me!). Like me like me like me is my mantra.

I was explaining this project to Madeline one night before bed.

I told her there would be songs that would make people uncomfortable, even angry. Songs that might make people not like me if I put out this CD.

She looked at me, in her leopard pajamas, and said “Dad, even if you don’t put out the CD, some people still won’t like you.”

Listen to whom? To those who know you best.

I wrote a satire for this CD. It pointed out the absurdity of using holy scriptures to justify unholy things like slavery, oppression of women, gays, etc. It was funny. And it was incendiary.

I lost sleep over it for a month. I sat down with Leandra after I had already turned in the master recording and confessed. I said I am concerned that That’s What It Says In The Bible will take away from the rest of the CD and what I want to accomplish. I want the CD to promote dialogue, not give reason for anger because I have thrown the first bomb. I am concerned I will only be adding to the suffering.

She looked at me for the longest time. Finally, I said what? She said, Listen to yourself.

I told Leandra it would cost money to have it removed. Money we don’t have. She said, it’s just money. (I married the right woman).

The next day I called the manufacturer and had them stop the presses and remove the song. And now I have a recording that some people still will be bothered by, troubled by, offended by, but I can live with.

Listen to whom? To yourself.

And finally. Listen to whom? To God.

Jesus, in today’s gospel text is being transfigured on the mountain. Transfigured means metamorphosed. He is being glorified, exalted, and spiritually changed.

And this is what he says afterwards. I’m going back down the mountain. Peter and the boys want to stay up there and hang with the celebrities and party. But Jesus’ whole transfiguration was about walking into his death, for the sake of the least of these.

We can stay on the mountain. It is euphoric to hear about hope and possibility. It is necessary to be inspired. To be filled with the spirit. But it is not on the mountain where the work is done. Who is willing to go down the mountain with Jesus? I sure as heck don’t want to go down there. I suspect I’m not alone. But maybe I will go with you. (If you lead the way, I’m not taking the first arrow...).

When we go back down the mountain, that is where we can look the girl in the eyes. Understanding is the beginning of compassion. When we can look each other in the eyes, we realize that we are the soldier, and we are the little girl. We are the terrorist and we are the terrorized. We are the oppressed and we are the oppressor. We are one. Jesus says ‘come with me, come to look in the eyes of your sisters and brothers. Open yourself. It is the only way. See them as I see them. As I see you. As a child of God.’

Listen and ponder. Then let’s head down the mountain with Jesus. And Thich Nhat Hanh. And Martin Luther King Jr. And your neighbor. And your enemy.

song :
FORGIVE ME

Forgive me I don't know what I do
Forgive me for what I've done to you
Forgive me when I refused to see
That you were no different than me

Forgive me when I'd become so scared
All reason would vanish in thin air
Forgive me, for when I could bring relief
I spent it bringing you to grief

Forgive me for all the things I'd say
That made you turn your heart away
If I had just put away my pride
I could have spared you so many tears you've cried

I suffer; I make you suffer, too
These arrows are ones I meant for you
I take them and break them all in two
And leave myself wide open to you

words and music by Neal Hagberg
c 2008 Uncle Gus Music/BMI
www.nealandleandra.com