Margie Vlasits: A Life Loved, Celebrated And Fondly Remembered

Marjorie "Margie" Jeanne Vlasits 1947-2024

Margie Vlasits was a beloved friend and a gracious and hospitable member of our house church for over 20 years. A 19-year battle with multiple myeloma finally took her life on March 3 at age 76. Her memorial service was today, just days away from Wednesday, May 1, which would have been her 77th birthday.

Some 150(?) people attended the celebration of her life at Richard and Kay Early's The Barn at Klines Mill Road this afternoon, with lots of tears, laughter and sharing of memories.

The following is a poem her older daughter Jeanine wrote at time of her mother's death:

The Gardener

She plunges into the soil, digging deep into the nutrients of the earth. 

She covers each seed gently and nurtures tenderly with compassion.

She brings forth boundless fruit; 

Love, patience, gentleness, kindness.

She builds a nest, a home, a safe space for all.

She designs, develops, cultivates her dreams.

She draws to her those in need of a mother’s love.

Safety, security, compassion, understanding.

She entwines her life with others, she finds a mate.

She is part of a flock, a pack, a sisterhood. 

She cares for others and they care for her, a community.

Respect, support, service, partnership.

She breathes deeply of life, savoring the fresh air.

She exhales; pain, uncertainty, difficulty.

She inhales; beauty, amazement, gratitude.

Spouse, children, grandchildren, a great grandson.

She sucks every last drop of nectar from life.

She studies, learns, grows, changes.

She spreads iridescent wings and glides.

Art, music, travel, hosting, home.

She is battered from unexpected directions.

She fights valiantly, it seems fearless.

She wins, momentarily.

Cancer, brokenness, healing, resolution.

She does not want to release her grip.

She has lived so beautifully, so humanly.

Move softly now, glide gently from this final phase.

Peace, love, beauty, rest.

♡Jeanine Underwood 2/2024

Here is a link to her obituary https://www.kygers.com/obituaries/Marjorie-Margie-Jean-Vlasits?obId=30917916&fbclid=IwAR3LEJyvzjf5DxLtn0q_bggIVxez6o3GBFqoQi4cRkEN9Vk9-y7lpSvhJ78

Listen to the entire service here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3S1ypnU-OPc

Fundraiser For Some Of Our World Neighbors Who Are Eating Grass To Ward Off Starvation

"Do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. You should rather open your hand, willingly offering what you can to meet that need, whatever it may be." (Deuteronomy 15: 7b-8)

I haven't been able to keep from obsessing over thousands of people who are on the verge of starving in Gaza, an area much smaller than Rockingham County but with over two million people in urgent need of food and shelter.  Multiple news sources are reporting examples of its citizens resorting to eating grass, weeds and roots of plants in a desperate attempt to survive. 

On Thursday, May 9, we will have an opportunity to be a part of an outpouring of compassion for the thousands of refugees in Gaza who are without adequate shelter and facing death by starvation. A special 7 pm hymn sing using the new Voices Together hymnal has been planned at the Park View Mennonite Church to raise urgently needed help, with the VT's music editor, EMU's Ben Bergey, leading the service. 

I'm sure #27 will be among the hymns chosen, the second verse of which is:

There is a knocking at our door, 

sound of the homeless of the world,

voice of the frightened refugee,

cry of the children in the cold

asking the least that is their right,

safety and shelter for the night.

- Lyrics by Shirley Erena Murray of New Zealand, sung to the tune KHAO I DANG, the name of a refugee camp in Thailand.

All proceeds will go directly to Mennonite Central Committee for Gaza relief, with a matching fund of $25,000 available to multiply our efforts.

The result will help save the lives of precious members of our human family.

NOTE: If you can't attend in person, you can make an online gift directly to Mennonite Central Committee, or mark the SOS (Sharing Our Surplus) option on the Virginia Mennonite Relief Sale website, where your gift will be doubled and sent to MCC. Or you can write a check to Virginia Mennonite Relief Sale (with "Gaza relief fund" on the memo line) and mail it to VMRS, 601 Parkwood Drive, Harrisonburg, VA 22802.

Guest Post: Forty Hours At 27 Cents An Hour

Tutankhamon Waterman, serving four life sentences in a
Virginia prison, has written over 30 books and novels.
https://www.facebook.com/TheDRSoulCollective

Twelve-hour shifts, horrible work conditions, inept supervisors and the pay is pennies on the dollar. You know what this means, because you read the bulletin board in your housing unit offering gainful employment as a kitchen worker. Your peers warn you against the idea, but you need the job because your family doesn't send you money, and having access to food is compelling. Great, but what you don't realize is that your life as an inmate ends when your life as a kitchen worker begins.

Wake-up call is an ungodly 3 AM. A static cry of an underpaid Correction Office arrives in your cell via intercom. It's loud and your bunkmate grumbles if you don't answer fast, because the CO will continue to call for your response. You say that you're awake, then the daily grind begins.

A march through numerous secured gates ends in a dank corridor where inmates sit on the floor. A few try to grab minutes of sleep, going so far as to lie on the grimy floor. You're shuffled one by one into a closet-sized cell, stripping out of your state blues. It's cold and disgusting, because inches away is a pissed stained toilet that reeks of bowel movements. You stand on your shoes in order not to have urine on your bare feet. You're also stripped of your manhood as the CO's eyes study you for contraband: spread your cheeks and cough.

You are now clothed in oversized, once-white, now yellow-stained uniforms, sagging, due to the elastic waistband being worn out from hundreds of washes. You hoist your waistline up, heading into the kitchen to search out and manufacture a trash bag into a belt.

The kitchen is overseen by lazy supervisors who sleep in the office while ill-trained inmates run the asylum. Hands have to be washed upon entrance because hygiene is mandatory...but supervisors don't give you your orientation; they assume you'll just read the signs over all the wash stations to wash your hands.

Twenty-five inmates work in a kitchen the size of a football field. Stations include the cook area, veggie prep, the bakery, the dish room, line workers, sanitation, chow hall workers, pots and pans and staff side dining. A kitchen job (as most prison jobs) requires no skill set. Since this is true, high turnover rates occur often, due to men who don't know how to work together, nor communicate what should be done. That's why most new workers come into the kitchen to eat, steal and do zero work. For some, stealing food for profit is a way of life for those who think stuffing their briefs with snacks seems smarter than working all day for pennies. They always get caught and vacancies become a detriment for those who continue to work the shift.

When someone is fired, do you think someone strolls in as a replacement seconds after he's gone? No, it takes weeks for a position to be filled. So a sanitation worker, who just dumped trash and cleaned a bathroom that no truck driver would use, comes to the line and serves food; his hands covered in plastic gloves that rip easily.

Those who have a passion for kitchen work control their world with zeal. You call them Bangers. A title synonymous with hard work. When you receive the stamp of being a Banger, this means wherever you work, you mastered your job. You can handle it alone and the supervisors trust you enough because you earned it--and that's where you get one gigantic perk: The freedom of food. The prison populace eats from a set menu that has zero flavor, due too many inmates having food allergies. So because of that, everything is bland...but not for a kitchen worker who can chef up a meal that by prison standards receives a Michelin star.

When you're tired, you hide, stealing minutes of sleep. You hide in carts that transport food to housing units while others watch out for you, taking turns in cramped quarters that would make a chiropractor rich. When your shift ends, you're spent. You're leaning on somebody's shoulder as you lumber back to the housing unit. Once inside, you gotta fight for a shower, because disrespectful inmates that didn't work will occupy them. You sit and wait, and if the unit goes on on lockdown for whatever reason, you'll be in your cell smelling like a trash dumpster, forced to wash up in a sink until your cell is open.

When you sign up for kitchen work, you give up your life; working on your freedom, education, and even your mental health is pushed to the side. You come in early and leave late. That's why most inmates after a year or so quit--they want more of a life and the kitchen doesn't allow anything but work and a few hours of sleep. You make 27 cents an hour, working 40-plus hours in a four-day span. Monthly checks average $43.20. The sad part is that inmates fight for jobs in the kitchen, because they need the money.

You now understand this reality, and even as you do, you take the job. This is your life now. The long hours. Lazy coworkers. All that comes as a kitchen worker you accept. 

Why? You're in prison, not the free world, and these are your options. Better get to bed. That 3 AM wake up call will be coming soon.

*You can read Waterman's story and sign and share his petition here: 

https://www.change.org/p/tutankhamun-waterman-deserves-a-second-chance?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR1Wyuzc-PW1nPVQZ6tQVHPSUsdHRK13eL5e9yymIkhphNfj4UqCaQW7weA_aem_AeiXB0ZtMfkd-berxBv7PZTcTeOkILqej0bwNSD9Yh7fLDw88sv1TVaUPyxTnU9E73xXmU8o8vXq5cgz8BLmeLfz

#PrisonLabor 

#SecondChanceMonth

#EndLWOP

In Defense Of Old Order Mennonite Education

Mountain View is one of six two-room Old Order 
Mennonite schools in southwestern Rockingham County.

Old Order Mennonites of the horse and buggy variety keep their formal education basic and simple. Since establishing their first grade one through eight school in 1968, they have pretty much kept things that way.

Our conservative-minded Old Orders deserve much credit, among other things, for preserving one of the most picturesque and unspoiled regions of family farms in all of the South. And chief among their contributions to our community are their offspring, honest, hard working, law-abiding citizens who require few government services, take care of their own aging (without relying on social security and Medicare) and provide for their own education.

Some may question whether their schools offer education of equal quality to that of their neighboring public schools. Based on their students’ scores on standardized tests they perform well above average when it comes to the basic three R's, and of course excel when it comes to religious instruction. But is that enough to prepare their young for today's technology-driven world? And are their teachers, with only eight grades of formal education themselves, adequately trained?

These are valid questions, to be sure, but many have at least served as classroom assistants, and some training is also offered each summer by seasoned teachers passing on their wisdom to the newer recruits. They also avail themselves of help provided in teachers' manuals accompanying their textbooks, some of which are produced by Christian Light Publication, a local publishing organization. And while their library offerings are very limited, most Old Order families, while avoiding the use of screen-based media, frequently buy and borrow books and other reading material for members of their households, and many are regular readers of the Daily News-Record, which benefits from its numerous Old Order subscribers. 

One thing is clear, these people don't rely on their schools alone to educate their children. From early childhood their young are trained to produce, preserve and prepare food from their farms, gardens, and green houses. Their daughters learn gardening, how to sew their own clothes, take care of younger siblings and to otherwise manage a household. Their sons learn whatever is necessary for the maintenance and management of their family's extensive dairy, poultry and/or other enterprise. So by the time their non-Mennonite peers are graduating from public high schools most Old Order teens have already learned skills sufficient to be able to take over many of the adult responsibilities of managing their family's farming or other operations.

On a recent visit to the Mountain View School west of Dayton I was again impressed by the dedication of their teachers and assistants and by the diligence of their students, who either walk to school, arrive by bicycle, or are transported by hired drivers. The current teacher of grades 5-8, a young woman in her early 20's, uses her bicycle or a horse and buggy to get to school each day from her home seven miles away.

We can learn from faith communities dedicated to preserving some of the timeless values of past generations. Such adherents of an older order of things, in my mind, represent a kind of monastic way of life they don't expect all of their neighbors to adopt, but which remind us all that not everything that is new is necessarily better, that not all that glitters is gold, and that we should make sure we don't discard ancient wisdom in a pursuit of the latest innovations or inventions. In summary, the Old Order community may accomplish in depth what some see as a lack of breadth. It produces young people well prepared to pass on their faith- and family-focused way of life, but without exposing them to the full array of information and options the rest of the world may offer.

Which is pretty much what they intend.

Some of the upper grade student at recess. (photos by Ruby Schrock)

Postscript: A local Old Order group that no longer requires horse and buggy transportation (Mt. Pleasant and Hinton Mennonite churches) operates the Hickory Hollow School along Limestone Lane, one that now includes some classes for grades 9-12; the Southeastern Conference Mennonites offer grades 1-12 at their Berea Christian School; the Calvary Mennonite churches have classes for grades 1-12 at the former Mt. Clinton Elementary School; and the more progressive Virginia Conference Mennonites offer kindergarten through grade 12 education at Eastern Mennonite School next to the EMU campus.

A Frightening Kind Of Powerlessness

source

I had an interesting conversation in my dentist's waiting room recently with someone who arrived in a four wheel drive pickup with "Don't Tread on Me" plates and a hood wrap displaying an American flag. I immediately saw him as someone I wanted to get to know better.

Our short visit went something like this:

Me: A beautiful day.

He: Another day in paradise.

Me: Yeah, we have a lot to be thankful for.

He: Maybe, if we could just get the government off our backs.

Me: I guess we'll all have to work at making things better.

He: But there's really nothing we can do. The government is totally controlled by the liberal media and the big shots in Washington. We don't have any say anymore.

Me: Except in a way, though, I guess we are the government, like "of the people, by the people, for the people."

He: That hasn't been the case for a long time. Nothing we do can make any difference. That's been totally true for years now.

Me: You really think so?

He: Unless somebody can put a bullet through Biden's head.

Me: You think that would make things better?

He: Well it would certainly help.

Office person: Harvey, we're ready for you now.

Me: Have a good day.

By the time I was finished with my checkup, my friend had gone. I still wish we could have had more time to talk and get to know each other better. But as someone has said, "Talk and facts don't change people. Relationships do."

As It Was In The Days Of Noah--Complacency In The Face Of Catastrophe

Noah's Ark During the Flood, Vladimir Kosov

"Before the great flood everyone was carrying on as usual, having a good time right up to the day Noah boarded the ark. They knew nothing—until the flood hit and swept everything away."

Matthew 24:38 (the Message)

Like most North Americans, I fail to realize how exceptionally fortunate I've been in having avoided the trauma millions of others on our planet have suffered in my short lifetime. 

In the first decade of my life, over 50 million people died in World War II. In western Europe and in parts of Asia whole cities were obliterated, two of them by nuclear bombs. Over six million people, mostly Jews, suffered horribly and perished in the Holocaust.

In the 50's the Korean War devastated millions, as did the Vietnam War in the 60's and the 70's, in which the US dropped more bombs in that part of the world than had been used in all of WW II. An untold number of our southeast Asian neighbors lost their homes and their lives.

In the 80's and 90's our African neighbors saw an increase in droughts and other conditions that led to mass starvation. In the Second Congo War some 2.7 million died, mostly from hunger and disease. 

In this century, over 13 million of our world neighbors have been affected by drought and famine in Niger and West Africa, and multitudes have starved in Somalia, South Sudan, Ethiopia and Nigeria. In the Middle East thousands of men, women and children have perished in Yemen as a result of the Yemeni Civil War and the US supported blockade of Yemen by Saudi Arabia.

Most recently, over 30,000 civilians have been killed in Gaza, with a population of 2.1 million people already living in poverty and crowded in a space less than 20% the size of Rockingham County. Many in Gaza have suffered severe burns. loss of limbs and other injuries, and most of its inhabitants, many of whom were already living as refugees for decades, have had to flee their bombed out homes and refugee camps with nowhere to go, and without shelter, food or even minimal healthcare.

In spite of all of these recent disasters happening on the small blue dot we share on planet earth, we have come to believe we are exempt from the tragedies experienced by billions of other human beings.

Everywhere but here. Any time but now.

Just as in the days of Noah.

"YE (Not 'Thou') Are The Light Of The World" Why The Ye Pronoun Matters

An unbelieving and skeptical world is not

likely to see church divisions as convincing

signs of our love for God and each other.* 

"You [plural] are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your [plural] light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven."

- Matthew 5:14-16 NRSV

We usually assume this passage in the Jesus's Sermon on the Mount is about each of us individually being a source of God-given light. While that interpretation obviously has merit, Jesus is really saying that it is the God-chosen community of Jesus followers, collectively, that is like a beatitude-blessed light for all to see. 

In the book of Revelation, the Son of Man is introduced as one who is in the midst of seven golden lampstands representing seven congregations in Asia Minor. Whether the author is the same John as the apostle who heard Jesus's words firsthand, his use of the same metaphor for a congregation (a luminous lampstand) is striking, as is the writer's description of a well-lit city on a hill, a new Jerusalem ("city of salem, or shalom") that cannot be hidden. 

In the first century, outsiders were amazed and impressed not just by the witness of individual believers, but by the way members of the Jesus community in the book of Acts loved each other and shared generously with those in need. This was a convincing answer to one of Jesus's last prayers, "that they may all be one (unified), as I and the Father are one" so "the world may know that you are my disciples, by your love for one another."

So in fulfilling Christ's mission, rather than simply singing "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine," we should strongly affirm something like,

This Great Light divine,

We're gonna let it shine,

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

Another good theme song for followers of Jesus should be, "They'll know we are Christians by our love." Clearly one of the more convincing ways of doing that is to have congregations patiently and persistently working at their differences until they are resolved, no matter how long it takes.

* https://www.christianbook.com/devour-another-biblical-principals-handling-conflict/alexander-strauch