The sermon I never preached...

I was checking out the documents in my computer and came across the sermon I never preached. I don't know what year it's from, though it must be recent since it mentions this blog. And I don't remember writing this and I thought I'd share it with you because it is so odd. I like odd, in case you haven't noticed...

Sermon not preached on July 8

I used a quote in my sermon last week from Saul Alinski. It is a quote that turns upside down and inside out our normal assumptions. What we say is: “seeing is believing”. What Saul Alinski said was, “When we believe it, we will see it....”

I write this blog where I ponder things that confound me. Last week I pondered things like this:

*how does the cat know I just cleaned his litter box?

*why do people wear headphones when walking on the canal that shut out the sounds of birds and bullfrogs and the wind in the trees and the sweet whisper of the water?

*how many words does my dog know?

*if Jesus were here, would he go to church?

That's the one that's really got me wondering. If Jesus were here, would he go to church?

So a call comes to the Pope's office. Some Cardinal answers it and says, “you're kidding! Oh goodness! Amazing!

The Pope asks who's calling and the Cardinal says, “your Holiness, there is good news and bad news.”

“Tell me the 'good news' first,” the Pope says.

“Jesus has come back!” the Cardinal tells him.

The Pope crosses himself and gives a prayer of great thanks. “So what could be the 'bad news'?” he asked.

The Cardinal held his hand over the phone: “He's calling collect from Salt Lake City....”

It would be weird to have Jesus in Church: If he were a reader he'd say, “The Word of Me” at the end of the lesson.

If he were receiving communion—we'd have to say, “Ah, your Body...This is, Ah, your blood.”

If Jesus came back, He wouldn't come to church to worship himself—that would give new meaning to “Narcissism”!

But if Jesus came back, I think he would come to church. Not for the worship, not for the Sacraments, not for the scriptures....but for two things....THE HYMNS and The COMMUNITY.

Today we heard about Paul's Beatific Vision. He claims it is a man he knew, but it is surely him. He was lifted (in his body or not; God knows) to the realm of heaven. And in that vision of paradise, he realizes “Power is made perfect in Weakness”. And he decides to 'boast' of his 'weakness' so God's Power can be made perfect.

In Mark's Gospel, Jesus can't find community in his home town. They 'don't see it, because they don't believe it'. He is too familiar to them. They know his family. How dare he claim to be something they know he isn't.

Community doesn't “happen”. We create it. And we create it out of our weakness...out of our failure to be a community. We will only 'see' it when 'we believe it'.

There is a story of a people who lived on the edge of the sea but never sailed it. But it came to them that there was 'A Beautiful Land' just across the sea, so they build an enormous ship and set sail from all they knew to find that “Beautiful Land”.

The problem was, they were a landed people and were terrible sailors. People kept falling overboard so the wondrous ship had to endlessly circle to pick up those who had fallen in the sea. Over and over they circled, over and over, to save those who had fallen into the sea.

And the miraculous thing was, that by circling endlessly to rescue their friends, they suddenly arrived at the 'Beautiful Land'.

That is what 'community' is all about. Endlessly circling to bring those who had fallen into the sea on board. Our weakness and our compassion are what bring us, unexpectedly, to the place we sat out to find.

That is why Jesus would come to church (besides the hymns!). To be a part of both our weakness and our compassion. To set sail with us. To share our journey. To come, at last, with us at the destination by merely circling and circling and circling to make sure we all get there together.....

Something to ponder, I think....

School is starting for me

Friday is the first class of my course on The Gospel of Mary Magdalen at UConn in Waterbury.

I teach in the Osher Life-long Learning Institute. Which is for people over 50, people who want to be there studying what they want to know. Amazing....

All I wanted to be in life was a college professor then this God stuff got in the way. Instead of going to the University of Virginia to get a Ph.D. in American Liturgy when I graduated from college, I went to Harvard Divinity School on a Rockefeller Fellow grant and got hooked on Theology. Now, in my retirement, I'm getting to teach.

I've taught The Gospel of MM, twice before and a course on the so-called Christian Gnostic writing and a course, twice, on reading the Gospels side by side. And I love it! I was born to teach. My mother was a teacher. Two of her sisters were teachers. I have about half-a-dozen first cousins who were teachers. It's in the DNA, in the blood.

I'm so happy to be in a classroom. It just feels right somehow. I can't wait.....

The puppy cut

Bern has been cutting on Bela, our Puli, for three days. She cut enough hair off him to create a couple of small dogs. He looks so little now, which is a problem since he's a terrible, bad, awful dog.If we haven't invited you over in the past six years it's because Bela would most likely bite you. He goes crazy when the postal worker comes, jumping against the front door, snarling and foaming at the mouth. With his puppy cut he looks even cuter than he does normally, and harmless.

Not true. He bit our friend, Hank, who, thank the baby Jesus, didn't turn him in or he wouldn't be here now. We know how aggressive he can be so when we walk him we warn people off who want to come and touch him.

He's an awful dog. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, which, since he weighs 50 pounds, wouldn't be far.

But we love him to death--probably because we realize no one else would and it's our job to love him. He's great with us, though he tries to stop us from leaving the house--he's a Hungarian Sheep dog so our leaving is letting the flock get away. But he adores our granddaughter and guards them so well when they are here. He loves our daughter, tolerates our son, loves our-daughter-in-law and Mimi's partner Tim. And he loves John, Sherry and Jack and will tolerate Hanne who always comes for Thanksgiving. Beyond that group, he'd probably bite you. Alas.

But he does look so cute in his puppy cut for warm weather. You might think, if you saw him, that he'd be fun to pet.

Looks are deceiving.....

The best thing I ever tasted....

I don't have much of a sweet tooth. I take sugar in my coffee but mostly I prefer the sweet taste of fruit. I'm a sucker for any kind of fruit pie--strawberry, blueberry, cherry, blackberry, peach, apple Once and only once, I had grape pie. I don't remember where, but I remember that pie as if it were this afternoon! I don't like cake at all--dry sweet doesn't appeal to me the way the wet sweet of fruit does. Ditto for cookies and brownies and all that stuff--though I will vote for a chocolate quassant once in a while.

I prefer vegetables and greens and meat to sweet most of the time. And I've never met a kind of sea food I didn't love. My idea of a 'treat' would be nuts and raisins and seeds instead of a candy bar.

But, a few months ago I went to a Cold Stone Creamery (is that the right name? Is it Stone Cold or something else?) near my son's house in Baltimore to get ice cream for the granddaughters. Morgan likes gummy fish in chocolate ice cream (yuck!) Emma wants lots of sprinkles in vanilla and Tegan will eat anything cold and sweet. And I noticed they had salty caramel frozen yogurt. Two things I love salt an caramel. So I got a small cup for myself. I wish I had gotten a gallon! I loved it. And ate it before starting my car's motor because I made the mistake of taking a bite.

Sweet and salt is something I love. I put salt on watermelon and cantaloupe and any other melon. I also salt apples (learned from my grandmother's knee) and even pears. Sweet and salt is much better to me than sweet alone.

Today in Stop and Shop I saw a salt/caramel pie (450 calories a 1/8 slice) so I didn't get it. But then I found Talenti Gelato in the flavor of Sea Salt Caramel. So I bought it. I didn't open it in the parking lot since I didn't have a spoon. But when I got home I did and it is the best thing I've ever tasted....

The first four ingredients  are caramel, milk, eggs and sugar (they're only a couple more) and blended in are pieces of chocolate covered caramel truffles. Holy Cow, is that sweet AND salty. The best thing I've ever tasted.

Bern is out with her women's group for her birthday dinner--I'm thinking I'll so down and finish off the pint of gelato.

(My spell check rejects 'gelato', which I know is how it's spelled, and the options it gives go from gelatin to cleat to glad--go figure. What self respecting spell check wouldn't have 'gelato' in it's computer brain? Gelato is better than Ice Cream, I think--not quite as sweet....)

Learning to speak French....

Well, I never learned to speak French, but some things recently have caused me to ponder how my personality has changed over the years, like learning a new emotional language.

At Easter, my son Josh told a couple of stories about how erratic and touchy I was when he was small--like pulling the whole family out of a restaurant at some perceived slight by the wait-staff and yelling at people for reasons he could not understand.

My bishop, Robert Atkinson, when I was a priest in West Virginia, called me 'my young Turk' because I was so contrary and argumentative and would take offense at the slightest provocation. I started considering all that and began to wonder when I changed.

I was telling someone today about what a rabble-rouser and malcontent I was in my younger years and she was astonished. "But you seem so laid back," she told me, "how could you have changed that much?"

I really don't know when it happened, but it happened. At some point, probably gradually or maybe at some pivotal moment, I simply stopped taking Everything personally. It's about impossible to get a rise out of me these days. There's even a member of one of the three churches in the Cluster I serve who has an 'impeach Obama' sticker on his car. I joked with him about it rather than attacking him with all my previous high-test self-righteousness. So he wants to impeach the president I love...he's still a nice guy and I like him. Lord, how far I've evolved!

I can tell you this, being detached while still engaged and involved is a lot less stressful than the tension convention I was when I was younger.

I met up with one of the Wardens of St. John's, Waterbury about a year after I retired. It was in a store somewhere. He asked me how I was liking retirement. "I'm a lot more relaxed," I told him.

He looked at me like I was a crazy person. "A lot more relaxed!" he exclaimed, "you were so relaxed when you were the Rector of St. John's that I thought we needed to check your vital signs! You must be unconscious most of the time now...."

Well, there you go: from 'young Turk looking to pick a fight at the drop of a hat' to comatose. I ponder the transformation, the learning of a new language of being. I haven't walked out of a restaurant because of the service since Josh was a pup. Nothing much bothers me. I have learned not to say "I don't care" when I'm asked something that I really don't care one way or another about because people tend to hear that as 'I'm not involved or interested'. Now, I've learned to say, 'why don't you decide?" I am involved and interested in my life--every moment of it--but I have a kind of detachment I never practiced or worked on that has simple evolved from my annoying younger self that makes me happier and, I believe, makes people around me happier since they don't have to worry about what's going to set me off next....

I used to, as I look back, sort of careen through life from one fight to the next. Now I glide or sidle (which most people don't know what it means) or drift through life from one moment to the next, enjoying each moment enormously but not expending a lot of wasted psychic negative energy.

When people ask me about my spirituality--an annoying question I've learned to simply lean into and answer--I tell them I'm a contemplative left-wing nut. Which, perhaps I am, given that in my aging I've learned to speak French without knowing a word of the language....

Spring, at last...?

Easter is over, now maybe spring can come.

Our granddaughters from Baltimore were fascinated that there were clumps of dirty, multi-times frozen snow still dotting our yards when they were here for Easter. But now Bern is outside raking the front yard and their are flowers poking their heads out of the long dormant earth.

Lucky for me, I don't rake up to Bern's standards so I never have to rake, or cut the grass with our push mower or do anything in the yard. That's her exclusive realm and she's welcomed to it!

She had a birthday this week and it would be improper to reveal her age though she is 3 years younger than me and I turn 66 next week. Plus she's been getting SS checks for a year so you might be able to figure it all out. If you saw her you might think she was in her early 50's or late 40's. If you saw me you might wonder if I could drive myself to the crematorium.

But, I'm healthier than I look. I saw my urologist today. I think it's been seven or eight years since my prostate cancer surgery and radiation. And it's been a year since I stopped taking Lupron to drive my PSA down and my PSA is, as Dr. Kurz said, 'undetectable'. He told me I was the first man in 5 years to go off Lupron and still have no PSA a year later. So I don't have to go back for a whole year. I've never quite said it, but I think it's safe to say now that--at this moment--I'm a cancer survivor. That feels good though the truth is I'm so good at denial that if  you asked me if I'd ever had cancer and I didn't think about it for a moment, I might say "No"!

There's something to be said positively about denial--at least you don't dwell on things and worry yourself into a tizzy....

I wrote a poem once about watching Bern work in the yard. I tried to find it in the two 2 foot piles of stuff on the second shelf of the bookshelf beside the table where my computer is. To no avail. I have to be at St. James, Higganum tomorrow all day 9-4 because they are hosting a safe-church training for folks around the diocese who deal with children or old people. And, for reasons beyond my comprehension, they want a priest 'on site' for the training. I've tried to imagine why. Would someone freak out remembering how they sexually abused a child or beat up an old person and took their Social Security check? In either case a police officer and social worker would make more sense than a priest. Am I supposed to hear confessions? It all seems suspect to me but I'll be there in the little library some of the members created in what would have been my office if I ever had need of an office. I didn't have an 'office' the last decade of my full time ministry. It just seemed silly to me. I had the 'office' where I'm typing this so what did I need with one in a church 12 miles away? I preferred to walk around and talk to people.

Anyway, what this is about is that I'm going to load my 4 feet of stuff I've written into bags from supermarkets and take it with me tomorrow and try to find that poem and see what all that stuff is....

Tomorrow promises to be warm again and sunny.

Spring is struggling to get to Connecticut.

Tom Cruise and Aliens

So, my friend, Mike Miano, sent me an email about my blog about 'what friends are for' saying he hadn't meant to "disturd" with the picture of me on the toilet. I've always thought Mikey was the craziest person I knew personally. But then, I don't know Tom Cruise 'personally'.

I read on line that Tom Cruise had been interviewed by a UK journalist about the movie he's working on, the plot of which is that he's part of a crew that's come back to earth to extract needed minerals after aliens had driven the humans from the planet. And Tom admitted he believed in aliens. This news is so expected that I can't see why it is news at all. I think Tom was deflecting attention to himself by saying that. If there are aliens among us, Tom Cruise, in my mind, would be a prime suspect.

I don't go see Tom Cruise movies or John Travolta movies anymore. Bern doesn't see Woody Allen movies because he married his step daughter and for some reason that offended her sensibility. I don't go to Tom Cruise/John Travolta movies because I don't want to give $9 (actually $5 since I'm a senior) because I won't give money to any Scientologist. Scientologists are lower on the theological food chain to me than Mormons and that Baptist Church in Kansas who believe God is killing American soldiers because of homosexuality.

Scientology--which is neither 'science' or 'religion'--are only higher on the theological food chain than Pedophile priests. Compared to Scientologists. Pat Robertson is my best friend. I have what I know to be a totally 'irrational' dislike for Scientology, though there are lots of 'rational' reasons to dislike them--like the labor camps they put some of their members in, like their having IRS recognition as a 'church' when what they are is 'pseudo-science' masquerading as a 'pseudo-religion', but let me stop there.

I usually have a strong tolerance for cults. When people were talking about cults a decade or more ago, I told them about my friend who joined a cult that took all her possessions, cut her hair, changed her name and controlled where she lived, what she did and who she associated with, all without paying her much of anything. My friend Jeremy is a Sister of Mercy in the Roman Catholic Church.

Cults, like beauty, are often in the eye of the beholder--or 'the beholding of the eye', which is much the same thing.

But, Scientology, give me a break! Really, how does that fit into the religious spectrum in any meaningful way? A guy who wrote science fiction novels invented a science fiction religion. I'd rather be a member of Kurt Vonnegut's invented religion Bokononism that be a Scientologist.

Vonnegut dreamed up Bokononism in his book Cat's Cradle. Here, briefly, is the Creation Story of Bokononism: One day God decided to let some of the mud sit up and live. And the mud that sat up and lived asked God, 'What does this mean?" And God replied, 'does it have to mean something?' And the mud that sat up said, 'of course'. And God said, 'well, I'll leave that to you.' And God went away.

One of the hymns of Bokononism goes like this: "Fish got to swim/Bird got to fly/Man has to ask, 'Why? Why? Why?'"

All that, it seems to me, makes a lot more sense than L. Ron Hubburd's invented religion.

Scientology even makes less sense than Mormonism. But don't get me started on Mormonism, please!

(The religion Mike Miano would invent would make more sense than either of those. It could have to do with sitting on the toilet. Maybe he should get busy on that while we're still able to think....We're getting old, Mikey. Invent a religion that makes sense of that....)