A Scottish rememberance

A HERO IN HIS LIFETIME:
A TRIBUTE TO REV. DR SAMUEL LEE VARNER,
by Yvonne Morland (Iona, Scotland)

‘I’m still concerned, and I still have great love and admiration for what the Community has always stood for … the Community influenced my thinking about issues, about the Bible, about theological reflections on the Bible, and also the political witness that pastors should make.’
Sam Varner, speaking in 2004 when being interviewed for Iona Community’s history archive

It was a rare privilege to meet Sam Varner, who was, from 1963 until his death on 22 September, 2009, aged 71 years, the only African American Member of the Iona Community. I was lucky enough to do so in 2004 by the happy chance that he lived very close to my sister in Virginia Beach, USA and someone was needed to interview him for the Community’s history archive.

Having heard many anecdotes and tales about George MacLeod, it was notable to hear Sam’s memories and reflections of him.

It was as a thoughtful, committed scholar in his second year of seminary that Sam struck up a correspondence with George, after being given and reading in a single sitting his book We Shall Rebuild, and having been inspired by the famous passage about Christ being ‘crucified on the garbage heap’.

‘I was fascinated by George MacLeod’s thoughts and ideas and reflections, theologically, and his biblical knowledge and information. And that famous quote! So after that I wrote him and told him what I thought, and we carried on a two-year trans-Atlantic communication about his book and about his work.’

The fact of the correspondence amazed a professor acquaintance of Sam’s, who had sent groups of students to Iona. He was even more amazed when George wrote to say: ‘Sam, if you’re so excited and so interested in what we’re doing, why don’t you come to Scotland and study with us for a year and join the Community?’

The professor gave Sam his full support to make the trip, and he arrived in Scotland in 1960, aged just 22. He planned to spend a year working with the Community – but ended up staying five years!
Sam told me that he felt that this time away from home saved his life. Literally. Many people in his community in Alabama were being badly beaten up or even killed. Sam, who as a child had witnessed the lynching of four black men by white mobs, was active with Martin Luther King in the civil rights movement, young as he was, and knew that every day could bring tragedy to one’s door.
When he arrived on Iona, the Community was in the throes of the preparation for the 1400th anniversary of the coming of St Columba, and the arrival of the New Men to start their training coincided with the June Community Week and the celebrations. George MacLeod conducted an open-air communion service – a huge ecumenical event that brought many guests to the Abbey and island.
Once work started, it was necessary for the New Men to make several trips across the Sound to collect granite for the rebuilding of the west range, a task that Sam played full part in. Community member Jack Laidlaw recalls:

‘Sam managed to get to the bath in the Abbot’s House before any other of the New Men, who on at least one occasion threw cold water over the partition to hurry him up!’
Jack Laidlaw again:

‘Soon after Sam started his time on Iona, the Wynant Volunteers arrived and Sam was confronted with affluent, middle-class white Americans. They learned from him a little more about the struggle for civil rights going on in their own country. For many it was the first time they had met and listened to a fellow American who was black. There was the moment when Sam was leading worship in the Abbey and froze because, as he explained later, all he could see was a mass of white faces, and he experienced a flashback to an angry mob at a civil rights demonstration when he had been attacked.

‘He did tell us about one time when he had been imprisoned and the treatment he had to endure when, without water to drink, the only moisture he had was the guards’ spit soaking his shirt.’
Of people in the Community, George MacLeod obviously made the biggest impact on Sam. But in our interview he also spoke of Ralph Morton, Donald Rennie, Cameron Wallace and David Jarvie.
He worked as an assistant parish minister with Fergus MacPherson in Greenock, until Fergus was called away by Kenneth Kaunda to be his Minister of Education in Northern Rhodesia/Zambia. Sam was asked to stay on in sole charge for two years, and then stayed for a further two years with Donald Rennie after he took up the charge. He said in our discussions that in Scotland he did not feel he was discriminated against because of his colour, on Iona, in Greenock or anywhere else. He was told it was more of an issue which of the ‘Old Firm’ teams he supported!
At the time of his arrival in Scotland, Sam was a member of the Zion Methodist Church, one of the protest Churches from the time of slavery. For most of his ministry, though, and till the end of his life, he was a pastor in the United Church of Christ.

The obituary posted on the website of the funeral home in Chesapeake, Virginia included the following about his life’s work:
Sam was a retired UCC Southern Conference Association Minister, retired Clinician with the City of Chesapeake, adjunct professor at Thomas Nelson Community College, and Seminary professor at Regent University.

Having asked him in 2004 to describe his current work, he told me:

‘Well, my work now is somewhat like a bishop. I have fifty-six churches … Twenty-five or twenty-six of these churches are predominantly African/American churches, and thirty of these churches are predominantly European/American churches, and one of the churches is the Filipino/American church. And my job is to be a counsellor and a pastor to the pastors of these churches, and to assist them in their work … I preach in a lot of the churches, I participate in all the Ordination Services, all the Installation Services … These are the kind of things I’m doing right now.’
Sadly, although he kept up teaching, preaching and counselling for as long as possible, Sam’s health, early on affected by severe asthma, presented him with continuing and debilitating challenges. He became more and more immobile and his sight deteriorated, until he was registered blind. He was lovingly and well cared for by his family: his wife, Ruth, daughter, Elizabeth, and sons Seko-Benjamin and Daniel, who gave him six grandchildren to also continue his considerable legacy.

Sam was never able to fulfil his wish to return to Iona and Scotland. As we all know, though, he did witness the election of the first African American President of the United States, and he must have felt vindicated for all those years of struggle.

Speaking to him by telephone on the day of the Inauguration, Sam was animated and excited, and when I referred to the long hard grind to reach such a significant point, he responded as though his life had just been a ‘walk in the park’!

His faith in the power of the Holy Spirit was immense and he was an inspiration. I shall always be grateful for the chance to meet him and to make a personal connection with such an important history of justice and peacemaking, which Sam continued to embody throughout his long ministry.

Not just a hero, my hero.

What a difference a year makes. 10/19/2008 We shared a meal, family, and my pops. He received a cup, an Obama t-shirt, and other gifts. His birthday cake held two candles, a number seven followed by a number one. Today, one year later, his birthday cake was without candles. Today we shared a meal, some tears, and shared family.

Next to our table a young girl smiled widely as the waiters gathered around her table sing "Happy Birthday to you !" Later an older man surrounded by his family grinned as the waiters serenaded him. Each time our family clapped for the celebrant, then slowly hung our heads as the jubilance left. My son began..."All the children should say someting about Papi." My son shared a wisdom beyond his years, my daughter reluctantly passed. The four year old fraternal neice shared her memories, invoking a smile a relief from the moment. My elder fraternal neice passed. The adults chimed in.

We were cuting the cake, my brother and I, hoping to remember that the family remains intact in his physcial absence when I noticed that the cake I ordered held no candles. In place of the numbers seven and two were two dates............ Sunrise 10.19.1937, Sunset 09.22.2009. This year held no jubilation, this year held no joy. This year had no presents, this year was without his presence. The cake read "In rememberance of you." As I looked up to make a toast to my father I saw my elder-neice nestled under the arms of my mother as Mom was being comforted by my son. All were crying. The entire table wept together. I missed last year.

Last year my elder fraternal-neice stood a read prose created to celebrate Dad's 71st birthday. She ended by saying "You're a hero. Not just a hero, my hero." My sentiments, excatly. I miss my hero. (Press the play button for the below video).

Dr. Varner will always remain

Metropolitan Wesley A.M.E. Zion Church
1712 North Capitol Street, NW

Washington, D.C. 20002
202-483-3262

Rev. Dr. Heath Cheek, Sr. Pastor

Rev. Sharon Cheek, Co-Pastor

9/26/09

To the family of the late Rev. Dr. Samuel Lee Varner,

Words are truly inadequate to express the life of one who was truly blessed.
A servant of the Most High whose name Dr. Varner would convey and be an example in his living showing the lost The Way.

Royalty in stature yet he kept humility at his side, along with a beautiful woman he made his wife and two sons and a daughter to guide. His imprint has been left in those who knew him best the transition he makes is an honor for Dr. Varner has undoubtedly earned his rest.

He is among those great clouds of witnesses the spirits of the past, an honored elder an ancestor whose spirit will always last.

Words are truly inadequate and it is hard for me to express, yet I was one he did encourage to always do my best. Friendship is truly essential that I doubly share with his son, Seko-Ben, we experienced a great deal together and share the joy of calling each other friend.

To the family rest assured that the LORD feels your heart felt cries, when the days become overwhelming angels will be sent to dry your eyes. A portion of Dr. Varner will always remain in each and every heart and the lessons of love he taught, from your lives never let them part.

With the love of Christ,
Rev. Dr. Heath L. Cheek

My father is now my ancestor

Dr. Rev. Samuel Lee Varner: Sunrise 10/19/1937. Sunset 09/22/2009.

9.22.2009 I was awoken suddenly at 1:37 a.m. I couldn't determine what awoke me. I couldn't immediately return to sleep. 10 minutes or so later I was snoring. At 1:51 a.m. I'm awakened by a phone call. I hear my mother's muffled voice crying hysterically. My sister in-law then appears on the line saying "Seko, Papi's gone. He's gone."

I couldn't breathe......... "Are you saying that he's dead ? Is that what you're saying ?" hoping that Dad was moved to another room in the Rehab' Center. Life nudged me and I fought back throwing the telephone receiver at the mirror shocking my wife awake. "What, what is it Seko ?" I couldn't answer........Too busy screaming.......Too busy crying.....I wanted to break everything in sight. I ran out of the room yelling and grabbed a lamp on the way out hurling it towards the window. Rhonda's trying to calm me down while I run down the stairs and out of the house screaming. "Don't drive, don't get in the car" she begged as I ran down the streets of my neighborhood. I had to get somewhere where I couldn't break anything else. Finally I fell to my knees on a patch of grass near the main street. After a while I sobbingly returned to my house, dried my eyes, and gathered myself........ Until I looked into the worried face of my 7 year old daughter. The look on her face weakened me as I fell to the floor crying and trying to catch my breath. I couldn't look at my son, I didn't want to make eye contact with him as I couldn't be a strong supportive father at this moment in time. I hated that he saw me completely floored and unable to control myself. I tried to breathe to calm myself but I couldn't. I felt as if I lost the reason to breathe.

Eight hours ago I returned from an anniversary trip to New Orleans with my wife of twelve years. I planned to see Dad as soon as I returned, but became wrapped up in seeing a few counseling client's instead thinking that I'd be able to see Dad tomorrow. Tomorrow never came, tomorrow will never come. Enroute to the nursing home to hold the lifeless hand of my father I sent the text: "My father is now my ancestor."

Then (1972) Pops & I:

Circa 1987 I was in a Hampton University college psychology class and our instructor self-nicknamed "Mr. R.E.O." (Read Early & Often to pass my class) was encouraging us to debate each other. As the discussion turned to 'fathers' a classmate stated with extreme anger that "Fathers ain't nothing. We don't need fathers. Ain't nobody's father ever done nothing for them." I shared how my pops had cooked most of my life and had been in our house everyday except when he took the family our of town. I ended by saying how I enjoyed my pops' food until the #@tch interrupted me yelling out "I'm glad you grew up in the Huckstable's Home but the rest of us had to live in reality. " As I sat there confused I slowly realized how blessed I had been, how much this #@tch was gonna' pay for embarrassing me, and how much justified anger she showed for her mother's bad decisions. As the entire class erupted in laughter I attempted to respond by saying "I'm sorry that you grew up in the ........" stuttering I realized that I couldn't come back on her and be right. I sucked up the embarrassment and kept it moving. I kinda' laughed to myself, she was fat, unattractive, a female, and angry. There was no way I was gonna' win this war with words. A few seconds later on a young lady stated something nice about her father and a few other students agreed. The fat, unattractive, female kinda put her head down on the desk and then I felt a bit sorry for her. I also noted that she had some sexy legs for a fat unattractive female and she stopped being unattractive......... I digress...........

Now (2009) Pops:
All my life my pops has fathered me. (Not to leave Mother -Dear out but I talk about her in another blog). The last 8 months I've washed him, fed him, cleaned after him at times, and guided him with some financial decisions. He shared one day how he ended up having to care for his father, and now his first son was caring for him. My pops has become legally blind and is so sick sometimes that life surely feels like torture. I'm having problems sleeping and I'm over-eating and I realized the other night that I'm making myself sick.What's wild is how my son and daughter know how to say the wrong thing at the right time and make everything alright. Just when I begin to beat myself up comparing my son-status to my brother's son-status (he'll probably always win the "Best Child Award" if there is such a thing) or I begin to think about my pops becoming an ancestor, one of my kids walks up and hands me a handmade card/picture/structure that they made for me effectively washing away the depression. I know that I'll have future fears, pains, tears, and worries about my father - yet It's rejoicing to know that my kids will have a 'creation' up their sleeves to Daddy their Daddy.

Thanks be to Father Almighty, thanks be to the Son of Father Almighty, thanks to the ancestors. I love you Pops. I love you Moms, I love ya' kids.

The Riot Starter

T'was the night before News Years (Roman Calendar December 31st, 2008) and we just picked up Pops to take him to go to the Watch Night Service. Mums didn't feel good and refused to go with us stating "I'll be fine right here." as she gently patted the bed she layed in. When Pops opened the door his pupils were dilated and he stood rocking back-and-forth trying to get his balance. His Glaucoma is kicking his tail, the surgery he recently had for his eyes seems to be in vain. The eye that didn't receive the surgery is now his "good" eye.


We walked out of the house, off the porch, and then made a wide circle towards the vehicle instead of walking directly to the truck. Instead of guiding him I let him find his way. It has to be depressing to loose your vision. He's facing the same thing his father faced.......Blindness. He shared with me a few days prior to Christmas how I'm fulfilling the same role he fulfilled for his father..... He became his father's eyes, I'm doing the same.....Reluctantly. I try as much as possible to allow Pops to accomplish anything he can with out treating him as a crippled man. As I fully want to guide him to the car as a normal person would move, he needs to be capable. He wants to be capable. He can get so cranky when he's helped to do things he can do for himself.


En route to the church Pops mentioned a friend of the family, Sarah Kinard, who is writing her thesis about her father and my Pops' Omega Psi Phi chapter brother John Kinard. John helped Pops cross into our Omega fold in 1958. Influenced by a man in his neighborhood Pops was originally interested in Alpha Phi Alpha but as one of the Alphas on campus showed an interest in Pops (in a different way) Pops decided against Alpha Phi Alpha. The Omegas knew that Pops was destined to walk in Purple and Gold and John Kinard opened the doorway. Years later they remained friends as John became the curator of the Anacostia Museum in Washington D.C. John and his family were frequent hosts to my family when I was young and I fondly remember eating Monkey Meat, Shark Meat, Octopus, and other exotic delicacies. Sara interviewed my Pops and reminded him that John and Pops help start a student riot on Livingston College's campus. According to Pops, who then shared the story: An another future man of Omega Psi Phi - Jesse Jackson Sr. (of I am somebody fame) and some other students held some sit-in demonstrations in North Carolina and the "white" citizens of Livingston North Carolina wanted to avoid having a similar situation. These citizens had been donating great sums of money to the historically Black College Livingston, and also the beginnings of the Food Lion Corporation had been supporting the College. A delegate from the citizens contacted the school and sharing their concerns about a possible sit-in stating that if such a sit-in occured in Livingston the citizens would remove their support and also could impact the funding received from Food Lion. The school's Chaplin contacted Pops and Mr. Kinard and encouraged them to act in the best interest of the school's funding. This Chaplin then drafted a letter written from the perspective of the students stating that they had no interest in holding a demonstration. Pops and John Kinard signed the letter with the implication that they authored the letter and the correspondence was published in the local newspaper calming the concerns of the "citizens". Pops then shared how the students gave he and John hell for their act of betrayal and then held a riot to "demonstrate" their anger on campus.


As Pop's story ended we drove up into the parking lot of New Life - Providence, the church that my wife and Kids having been visiting for over two years now. Their New Years Eve service had been heavily promoted in the church and included food and drinks prior to the service, a service, and food and drinks following the service. New Life is a mixed congregation and prides itself in being "Trans-ethnic" as it boasts membership consisting of people of many ethnicity's promoting that the body of Christ, and the Church accepts all people ethnically. This position of Trans-Ethnic initially turned me off, and now I could take it or leave it. Surprisingly this pastor, Pastor Dan Backens (photo to left) has often shared information I learned in my times frequenting Black studies groups such as the incorrect presentation of 3 Kings on the standard Christian Nativity scenes. Today as we walked in the sanctuary Pastor Dan surprised me and Pops by giving the Black History of the New Year's Eve (Watch Night) Service. I normally post to the e-group of the Imani Foundation each year a special historical note regarding going to church on New Years Eve. "The Watch Night Services in Black communities that we celebrate today can be traced back to gatherings on December31, 1862, also known as "Freedom's Eve." On that night, Blacks came together in churches and private homes all across the nation, anxiously awaiting news that the Emancipation Proclamation actually had become law.Then, at the stroke of midnight, it was January 1, 1863, and all slaves in the Confederate States were declared legally free. When the news was received, there were prayers, shouts and songs of joy as people fell to their knees and thanked God. Black folks have gathered in churches annually on New Year's Eve ever since, praising God for bringing us safely through another year. It's been nearly 140 years since that first Freedom's Eve and many of us were never taught the African-American history of Watch Night, but, tradition still brings us together at this time every year to celebrate "how we got over." Pastor Dan, an older white guy, almost read the above information word for word with a few changes in the presentation to make it appropriate and relevant. Pops and I looked at each other slightly amazed.

Pops, who has been a minister for over 60 years left the service feeling refreshed and stated that he approved of Pastor Dan's approach to ministry and the service. He had visited the church once before this year when his eyesight was with him. What a difference a few days make. Three months ago he drove himself to this church, now we have to lead him from the truck. I give thanks to the Almighty for 2008. I've had a chance to spend a great deal of time with Pops and my life has been affected, my fatherhood has been affected, and my faith has deepened.