Bern went to Providence yesterday to be with her cousin Anthony who is trying to clean out the house where he and his father lived--Bern's Uncle Frank who died a month or more ago.
The dog is a pain. He listens to Bern but not to me. I'm yelling at him a lot to no avail. Usually I just go and make him do what I want.
I woke up this morning and Bela was on his side, his head on Bern's pillows, looking, for all the world, like a 55 pound version of her!
It's odd, Bern and I can be in our house all day and rarely exchange words besides "I'm going out" or "be back soon" or "do you need anything while I'm out?" Yet her absence makes an enormous difference.
Oh, often we talk for long times, but mostly we're just so comfortable being with each other that few words matter. "What can I make you for dinner?" is something we both say.
And, when she's gone, I miss her madly. Nothing is quite right, know what I mean? An emptiness that is palpable and a little painful.
She'll be back Wednesday. I'll have flowers and dinner all planned. Things will be better when Bern comes home....
Monday, May 19, 2014
Friday, May 16, 2014
Happy Anniversary to me....
Yesterday was the anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood on May 15, 1976. The only reason I know this is that on every anniversary of my ordination I get an email from Louie Crew (who teaches at Rutgers, is a big deal lay person in the national church and founded Integrity.) And Louie's email always says something about the line from "The Messiah" by Handle that says, "How beautiful are the feet of he who brings good news...."
Sometimes Louie suggests I get a pedicure to celebrate my anniversary. This year the subject line was "See how beautiful your feet are...." followed by a lovely collect and best wishes.
I've never heard another priest talk about his/her emails from Louie on their anniversaries, but I bet he sends one to every priest...or at least to every priest who has ever been at General Convention with him. I'm sure (if you're not ME!) it would be easy to do on a computer...log in the email addresses and dates to send into some program, write the email for the year and then it would happen automatically.
(There is a lovely Indian woman at a local package store that always say, "Thanks, Love" to me when I buy some wine. Being an only child, I naturally assumed I was the absolutely only person she said, "Thanks, Love" to. Then I realized, standing in line, that she called everyone 'love'. It was a painful moment to realize how I consider myself the center of the Universe so much of the time....the 'norm', the 'template'....)
Which I why I know I'm not the only person Louie sends Anniversary greetings to. But when I get them, since without them I'd never remember the significance of May 15, I feel special and acknowledged and deeply rooted.
It was a great service, by the way, and the next day--the day of my first celebration after almost a year doing Deacon's Masses, the St. James Dancers did their first Dance Eucharist to the songs from Duke Ellington's 'Sacred Concert'.
Lovely.
Bill Pregnell, one of my professors at Virginia Seminary came to Charleston, West Virginia to preach my ordination sermon. I remember not a word of it.
I have pictures, some framed, of the event--so long ago, so far away.
As a priest, I've just reached the outer reaches of middle age--38. That's good news since this afternoon, standing out on the deck in an atmosphere that obviously wanted to rain but couldn't quite manage it, I, for the first time, marveled that I'm 67 years old! How did that happen? I feel about 38 (except for some aches and pains I can't explain)
I never intended to be ordained an Episcopal priest and in fact went, in some ways, kicking and screaming to knell at Bishop Atikinson's feet and have, over the years often questioned what the hell I'm doing here and why on earth I didn't go do something like be an English Professor that would have made much more sense.
But here, 38 years and 1 day after the fact, most of what I feel about how I spent much of my life is rather sweet and satisfied and 'at home with' in an odd way, like I ended up, against all better judgement and my own desires, exactly where I was supposed to be.
That's not bad, I wager, for how to spend the better part of your life.
I'm still swimming in the irony of the whole thing, but, quite honestly, it's been a 'long, strange trip' and I've mostly enjoyed every moment.
That what I would wish for everyone when they come to the end of 'work' and look back on those years. Really....
Sometimes Louie suggests I get a pedicure to celebrate my anniversary. This year the subject line was "See how beautiful your feet are...." followed by a lovely collect and best wishes.
I've never heard another priest talk about his/her emails from Louie on their anniversaries, but I bet he sends one to every priest...or at least to every priest who has ever been at General Convention with him. I'm sure (if you're not ME!) it would be easy to do on a computer...log in the email addresses and dates to send into some program, write the email for the year and then it would happen automatically.
(There is a lovely Indian woman at a local package store that always say, "Thanks, Love" to me when I buy some wine. Being an only child, I naturally assumed I was the absolutely only person she said, "Thanks, Love" to. Then I realized, standing in line, that she called everyone 'love'. It was a painful moment to realize how I consider myself the center of the Universe so much of the time....the 'norm', the 'template'....)
Which I why I know I'm not the only person Louie sends Anniversary greetings to. But when I get them, since without them I'd never remember the significance of May 15, I feel special and acknowledged and deeply rooted.
It was a great service, by the way, and the next day--the day of my first celebration after almost a year doing Deacon's Masses, the St. James Dancers did their first Dance Eucharist to the songs from Duke Ellington's 'Sacred Concert'.
Lovely.
Bill Pregnell, one of my professors at Virginia Seminary came to Charleston, West Virginia to preach my ordination sermon. I remember not a word of it.
I have pictures, some framed, of the event--so long ago, so far away.
As a priest, I've just reached the outer reaches of middle age--38. That's good news since this afternoon, standing out on the deck in an atmosphere that obviously wanted to rain but couldn't quite manage it, I, for the first time, marveled that I'm 67 years old! How did that happen? I feel about 38 (except for some aches and pains I can't explain)
I never intended to be ordained an Episcopal priest and in fact went, in some ways, kicking and screaming to knell at Bishop Atikinson's feet and have, over the years often questioned what the hell I'm doing here and why on earth I didn't go do something like be an English Professor that would have made much more sense.
But here, 38 years and 1 day after the fact, most of what I feel about how I spent much of my life is rather sweet and satisfied and 'at home with' in an odd way, like I ended up, against all better judgement and my own desires, exactly where I was supposed to be.
That's not bad, I wager, for how to spend the better part of your life.
I'm still swimming in the irony of the whole thing, but, quite honestly, it's been a 'long, strange trip' and I've mostly enjoyed every moment.
That what I would wish for everyone when they come to the end of 'work' and look back on those years. Really....
Thursday, May 15, 2014
A soft, spring rain
A soft spring rain is falling outside. I love rain in any form (unless it is part or a destructive hurricane) and especially the kind of soft Spring rain that is falling now.
Rain always makes me reflective. It makes me ponder stuff I normally don't--not because I don't want to but because pondering will get you into trouble on a sunny, 70's kind of time.
Here's what I'm pondering right now with the soft Spring rain falling: Life is, by it's very nature and essentially, empty and meaningless.
Life comes at us like the weather--it just comes and we can't determine it in any way that would matter. Empty and meaningless....
Today, the 9/11 museum was dedicated, The president and most folks who we assume matter about it all were there. What happened on 9/ll was like the weather--empty and meaningless--it just happened.
9/11 seems an odd thing to have a museum dedicated to, on one level. Just like Holocaust museums and the Quinnipiac University museum in Hamden dedicated to the Irish Hunger. Go figure....
But it makes my point for me: 9/ll, the Holocaust and the Irish Hunger simply happened. Like tonight's rain. But we human beings are "meaning" creating machines. There is no such thing out in the universe called 'significance'. You can't bring me a cup of 'significance' the way you can bring me a cup of coffee or water. You can't bring me a bag full of 'meaning' from anywhere.
Significance and Meaning is what we human beings make up about the weather, about a soft Spring rain.
I make up that Spring rain makes me ponder. All the rain is doing is falling. I decided that 'pondering' was caused by it.
I know I'm not making a lot of sense--because 'making a lot of sense' is what we human beings made up to deal with the emptiness and meaninglessness of life.
All I want to say about 'emptiness and meaninglessness' and 'making sense' is this: we would be a lot better off if we noticed the distinction between 'what happened' (a soft spring rain) and what we 'said about what happened' ('rain makes me ponder things....').
It would make us acknowledge that whatever 'meaning' there is to life and time and things and events, is what we 'made up' about 'what happened'.
That might just free us, I think, to 'make up' MEANING in a different way--a way that brought into being compassion more than conflict, love more than hate, openness more than bigotry, acceptance more than judgment, calmness more than anger, wonder more than fear, hope more than anything....
That's just the pondering that I know the rain didn't cause but I'm glad I 'made up' that the rain did cause it so I could ponder it.....
Rain always makes me reflective. It makes me ponder stuff I normally don't--not because I don't want to but because pondering will get you into trouble on a sunny, 70's kind of time.
Here's what I'm pondering right now with the soft Spring rain falling: Life is, by it's very nature and essentially, empty and meaningless.
Life comes at us like the weather--it just comes and we can't determine it in any way that would matter. Empty and meaningless....
Today, the 9/11 museum was dedicated, The president and most folks who we assume matter about it all were there. What happened on 9/ll was like the weather--empty and meaningless--it just happened.
9/11 seems an odd thing to have a museum dedicated to, on one level. Just like Holocaust museums and the Quinnipiac University museum in Hamden dedicated to the Irish Hunger. Go figure....
But it makes my point for me: 9/ll, the Holocaust and the Irish Hunger simply happened. Like tonight's rain. But we human beings are "meaning" creating machines. There is no such thing out in the universe called 'significance'. You can't bring me a cup of 'significance' the way you can bring me a cup of coffee or water. You can't bring me a bag full of 'meaning' from anywhere.
Significance and Meaning is what we human beings make up about the weather, about a soft Spring rain.
I make up that Spring rain makes me ponder. All the rain is doing is falling. I decided that 'pondering' was caused by it.
I know I'm not making a lot of sense--because 'making a lot of sense' is what we human beings made up to deal with the emptiness and meaninglessness of life.
All I want to say about 'emptiness and meaninglessness' and 'making sense' is this: we would be a lot better off if we noticed the distinction between 'what happened' (a soft spring rain) and what we 'said about what happened' ('rain makes me ponder things....').
It would make us acknowledge that whatever 'meaning' there is to life and time and things and events, is what we 'made up' about 'what happened'.
That might just free us, I think, to 'make up' MEANING in a different way--a way that brought into being compassion more than conflict, love more than hate, openness more than bigotry, acceptance more than judgment, calmness more than anger, wonder more than fear, hope more than anything....
That's just the pondering that I know the rain didn't cause but I'm glad I 'made up' that the rain did cause it so I could ponder it.....
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
You must read this! I think....
I just finished a novel titled The Goldfinch, written by Donna Tartt (imagine being a girl and growing up with that last name...especially in Greenwood, Mississippi, as she did.) She went to Bennington College and Bern thinks Mimi knew her there. Bennington is so small you know everyone there, so maybe Mimi did, I haven't asked her when we've talked lately.
Anyway, as I said to Bern about The Goldfinch, "Jesus, people from Mississippi can write!"
There is, among other things, something Faulknerian about her style--so dense and so complicated and so ironic. But what is truly remarkable is that the first person narrator is male. I'm always amazed when writers can write in the voice of the other gender and get it so right.....And Donna does.
It is a pain-filled read--all 770 pages or so of it--but except for a conceit in the last chapter I don't see why she did, it is compelling, riveting, always surprising, full of information about art, wood working, philosophy, pain and wonder.
I'll take back the "I think" in the title of this blog. I would say, if you're relatively stable, have a good self-image, not addicted to any controlled substances and prepared to be astonished: you should read this book.
It is a challenge, I assure you. But the journey is worth the effort.
Something I always judge a book by is this: when I'm 60 pages from the end, do I want to finish it or not? I read 700 pages in a day and a half--it took me 2 and a half days to read to the end because I didn't want it to be over. I didn't want to lose the characters from my life. I wanted them to stay with me for years and years.
So, using that as a guide, I think everyone should read this confusing, paradoxical, painful, finally joyful (in an ironic way) novel.
Happy sails to you.....
Anyway, as I said to Bern about The Goldfinch, "Jesus, people from Mississippi can write!"
There is, among other things, something Faulknerian about her style--so dense and so complicated and so ironic. But what is truly remarkable is that the first person narrator is male. I'm always amazed when writers can write in the voice of the other gender and get it so right.....And Donna does.
It is a pain-filled read--all 770 pages or so of it--but except for a conceit in the last chapter I don't see why she did, it is compelling, riveting, always surprising, full of information about art, wood working, philosophy, pain and wonder.
I'll take back the "I think" in the title of this blog. I would say, if you're relatively stable, have a good self-image, not addicted to any controlled substances and prepared to be astonished: you should read this book.
It is a challenge, I assure you. But the journey is worth the effort.
Something I always judge a book by is this: when I'm 60 pages from the end, do I want to finish it or not? I read 700 pages in a day and a half--it took me 2 and a half days to read to the end because I didn't want it to be over. I didn't want to lose the characters from my life. I wanted them to stay with me for years and years.
So, using that as a guide, I think everyone should read this confusing, paradoxical, painful, finally joyful (in an ironic way) novel.
Happy sails to you.....
Monday, May 12, 2014
So bad it is beyond Stupid...it's Evil
I know I recently called Louie Gomes the 'stupidest person' in the world. But what happened the last two days in CT goes far beyond 'stupid' to 'evil'.
As hard as it is to believe, there are people who call themselves 'truthers' who don't believe the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School actually happened--that it was a hoaks designed by people who want to take away guns from everyone who owns them
Two of the 20 playgrounds that have been dedicated around the state to the 20 children who died in the Newtown murders have been vandalized in the last few days and one of the 'truthers' call the mother of one of the dead children to tell her her daughter never existed and she had participated in the frabrication of the whole thing.
He called her on, of all days, Mother's Day.
Stupid is one thing...Evil is another.
There is no ring of hell terrible enough for these people who think Newtown never happened and it is all a government plot to erase the second amendment. I would, had I the power, erase the second amendment from the Constitution and seize all the millions of guns in this country. But to denigrate the 26 deaths at Sandy Hook--20 of whom were children--is beyond any stretch of the imagination, beyond belief....simply and only Evil.
As hard as it is to believe, there are people who call themselves 'truthers' who don't believe the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School actually happened--that it was a hoaks designed by people who want to take away guns from everyone who owns them
Two of the 20 playgrounds that have been dedicated around the state to the 20 children who died in the Newtown murders have been vandalized in the last few days and one of the 'truthers' call the mother of one of the dead children to tell her her daughter never existed and she had participated in the frabrication of the whole thing.
He called her on, of all days, Mother's Day.
Stupid is one thing...Evil is another.
There is no ring of hell terrible enough for these people who think Newtown never happened and it is all a government plot to erase the second amendment. I would, had I the power, erase the second amendment from the Constitution and seize all the millions of guns in this country. But to denigrate the 26 deaths at Sandy Hook--20 of whom were children--is beyond any stretch of the imagination, beyond belief....simply and only Evil.
A poem I found
My little office here on the second floor, south facing in our house, is full of stuff I've written in the past. Every once in a while I come across something I have no memory of at all and doubt that I really wrote it.
This poem is one of those. I should have found it back in December when it was the Feast of the Holy Innocents (Dec. 28) which commemorates the children King Herod slaughtered in an effort to kill the "King" the Magi were seeking.
But I didn't. I found it today.
You can imagine yourself back on that much neglected Holy Day, or just read it in May.
This poem is one of those. I should have found it back in December when it was the Feast of the Holy Innocents (Dec. 28) which commemorates the children King Herod slaughtered in an effort to kill the "King" the Magi were seeking.
But I didn't. I found it today.
You can imagine yourself back on that much neglected Holy Day, or just read it in May.
THE
HOLY INNOCENTS
The
Gospel of Matthew 2.16-18
King
Herod, slumbering by his table wakes,
from
too much wine and dreams of some new King.
His
choice he takes, royal decision makes:
“kill
them all,” he decrees, “to me blood bring”.
That
those children died we too soon forget,
Caught
up, as we are, in the Holy Birth.
Shepherds,
Mother, Child, Angel wings, and yet,
the
innocent ones died...returned to earth.
The
Star swings 'round again, again we gaze
at
the stable rude, the child sleeping there.
While
thousands die, innocent, in our days--
more
than we number, far beyond our care.
Innocent
in life, in death we must face
that
all thing: Known, Unknown are but God's grace.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Right Wing Christians are like the Jews in 1939 Germany...
OK, here is my nomination for the Stupidest Man in the World--Louie Gomez, member of the House of Representatives from, I think, the second district of Texas. There's lots of competition for the esteemed title of Stupidest Man in the World right there with him in the House. But, yesterday, he ran away from the competition.
On the floor of the House of Representatives (one of the most prestigious deliberative bodies in the world) Louie Gomez yesterday compared Conservative Christians who oppose gay marriage to the Jews in Nazi Germany, I kid you not.....
Louie's point, as abstract and ridiculous as it was, was this: just as the Nazis labeled, vilified and marginalized Jews, Liberals are doing the same to folks who oppose gay marriage and the end of civilization as we know it that will be caused by gay marriage.
He even used psychological language--he said Liberals were "projecting" onto conservative, God fearing Christians, the kind of evil and moral taint that Nazis put on Jews before they started building the gas chambers.
Since members of the House have a limit on how long they can speak, he didn't get around to saying that the GLTB community and the "liberals" had started building gas chambers...but, I'm sure he thinks we have.
Doesn't Rep. Gomez realize that the reason 'liberals', moderates and anyone with a shred of common sense don't respect people like him is that people like him say nonsense like that?
Jews should go beat him up by trivializing the holocaust in such a painfully stupid way.
God help us when people that stupid and irrational can be sitting in the lower house of our national legislature. God help us, indeed....
On the floor of the House of Representatives (one of the most prestigious deliberative bodies in the world) Louie Gomez yesterday compared Conservative Christians who oppose gay marriage to the Jews in Nazi Germany, I kid you not.....
Louie's point, as abstract and ridiculous as it was, was this: just as the Nazis labeled, vilified and marginalized Jews, Liberals are doing the same to folks who oppose gay marriage and the end of civilization as we know it that will be caused by gay marriage.
He even used psychological language--he said Liberals were "projecting" onto conservative, God fearing Christians, the kind of evil and moral taint that Nazis put on Jews before they started building the gas chambers.
Since members of the House have a limit on how long they can speak, he didn't get around to saying that the GLTB community and the "liberals" had started building gas chambers...but, I'm sure he thinks we have.
Doesn't Rep. Gomez realize that the reason 'liberals', moderates and anyone with a shred of common sense don't respect people like him is that people like him say nonsense like that?
Jews should go beat him up by trivializing the holocaust in such a painfully stupid way.
God help us when people that stupid and irrational can be sitting in the lower house of our national legislature. God help us, indeed....
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