Emily was a phenom on the high school marching band drum line. She did her obligatory freshman stint on the cymbals, but immediately took on the snare and quad drums (carrying/playing four drums at once) with seemingly no effort exuded to do so. It all came naturally for her, whereas I had to pull off my fair share of practicing and concentration on the bass drums while trying to maintain some sense of balance on the football field. Emily had no issues being responsible for not just maintaining the beat for other percussion instruments, but for the whole collection of brass and woodwind instruments too. Sure, a field commander directing things is nice, but if the drum line falls apart…chaos can ensue, to say the least. People like Emily are entrusted to provide a needed foundation for any worthwhile performance to amaze the crowds.
I don’t know where the fascination started exactly. I’m assuming it had something to do with a few family members driving them around at the time our dynamic duo came into the world, but they are unexplainably fascinated with the Jeeps wrangling around their neighborhood and beyond. It seems to be the most important part of our processing-the-day discussion with them as they start to cave into bedtime: if either of us parents went to work that day…“Did you see any Jeeps?!?!?” But it doesn’t stop there, for the details are essential for their curiosity fascination’s sake. What was the color (exterior and interior, by the way), were the doors on or off, and most importantly, were there any duckies on the dashboard (and of course, how many and what color were all those duckies), must all be covered to satisfy the toddler Jeep enthusiasts (who already have their exterior/interior colors picked out for their future adulting purchase).
Tomorrow (August 15), the wider church celebrates Mary: the mother of Jesus, Mary. This is always a…delicate matter for us Lutherans. We Lutherans who have a rather stubborn-streak history of wanting to be anything that did not smell of those Roman Catholic, supposedly “siblings in Christ.” One of our go-to critiques would be the whole Mary adoration, praying-to, even worshiping part of their cultic faith tradition (even though our Lutheran adoration, almost worship-level of our cherished Martin Luther; he had a rather high appreciation of Mary, Mother of Our Lord). And yet, we don’t want to go to far in our questioning of Mary, being the mother of Jesus and all: the one who played quite a significant role in bringing the grace and love and hope and mercy and joy to life.
It is that time of year for many transitions in the education realm of the world, including college freshmen moving into their beloved dorms on campus. I still remember my experience, leaving my small farming community for the first time (for an extended period, at least). It wasn’t the greatest day, necessarily, bringing in all the random desktop computer, bedding, clothes, etc., nonsense up a few flights of stairs on a rather hot day. Of course, we freshmen had to arrive a few days before the rest of the upper classmen, not just to get better acquainted where everything was in our new home, so to speak, but also to participate in those absolutely dreadful ice breakers. Oh, did I do my best to avoid those with every fiber of my being. Nevertheless, I caved in a few times, and obviously, survived just fine for those freshmen and all-around college days.
We alumni of Wittenberg University (Springfield, OH) received a not-so-overly uplifting email last week. But it’s not as if we are in these unchartered waters on a seemingly aimless raft all to ourselves. Other colleges and universities and non-profits and faith communities and countless others are attempting to keep their tried-and-true precious heads above these most topsy-turvy waves for us who aren’t expecting perfect calm, but definitely a little calmer than this. We’re trying to maximize what appears to be dwindling resources of finances, yes, but also time, and all-around lives, who are attempting to maximize their own potential and gifts and experience.
Nevertheless, there a couple opening paragraphs from the university president and the chair of the board of directors doing their best to soften the blow. But you can only do so much for us tried-and-true human beings who’ve seen our fair share of seeing what we deemed the best…whatever in our life fade away.
As per the Board resolution and consistent with the Faculty Manual, the revised plan must:
Reduce the University’s projected cash flow deficits for our new fiscal year that started July 1 and our next two fiscal years, eliminating them by the third year.
Provide for the elimination of staff positions to generate cost savings to the University at a minimum of $3 million in the current 2025 fiscal year and beyond.
Provide for the elimination of faculty lines in an amount sufficient to generate cost savings to the University at a minimum of $4 million in the 2026 fiscal year and beyond while retaining those academic programs necessary for the University to maintain and grow its current enrollment.
No pressure or anything: make decisions to hopefully save some form of university operations while upsetting nearly all alumni, who can’t imagine a cherished part of their life not have a certain professor or department or any other aspect what they deemed best in their respective post high-school experience. Not to mention, no pressure or anything: having to break the news to whomever in staff and faculty who will no longer be making the trek to a most beautiful campus to impact all-around lives for the better.
Such crashing-down-upon-us waves of uncertainty often push us to find coveted sources of stability in placing blame on entire groups of people, and even better if we can place a label to apply to all of them, regardless if we meet them individually or not. It’s quicker that way. It’s also easier when we don’t need to go a little further away in the chaotic waters to the personal responsibility shore.
Nevertheless, one of the generalizations is for the age 40s and unders, who evidently don’t mind constant change, who don’t cling to whatever institution that are meant to inspire wonder and amazement. Truly, I tell you, many of us alumni in all age brackets are sad, disappointed, frustrated, even if there is a level of understanding and acceptance of the current choppiness of all this…whatever this is. And we are well aware that we’re not the only ones in these unchartered (but not really, since these drastic changes have happened before in the human story) waters on a seemingly aimless raft.
Yes, I miss my favorite professors, none of whom are standing in front of a classroom anymore, not to mention an entire Religion Department virtually vanished. I miss the husband-and-wife campus pastors team who’ve ventured into retirement, and now a new one has taken the reigns who I don’t know at all. I miss the vocal and handbell choirs: the former not having nearly the same number of singers and the latter is gone entirely. I miss the hope and the drive (more so the emotional and spiritual ones, but the physical drive there was fairly inspirational too) and the beauty of it all. I miss what felt like one of the best parts of life seemingly fade away.
And yet, I am more than well aware that there is still hope and a drive and a beauty beyond that campus. I also know there are other alumni and leaders of that place with just as much hope and drive and beauty within them to empower them to do all they can to maximize whatever resources and time are available to impact the all-around lives of just-as-precious children of God for however many years to come. I know that no matter how scary these waters may become, our ultimate raft in Jesus Christ will insist on being with us to navigate the choppiness of it all; to give us just enough calm to still the stressful seas within us. It can be done. It will be done. No storm of life can curtail this Risen Lord of ours from persevering and rising up (including all of us) in hope. Amen (so let it be)!
