My glasses

I use my glasses to drive and watch TV and movies. Otherwise, I don't use them. I can't read with them. I can't type this with them. I can't eat with them because I can't really see the plate. Most of the time I'm inside, they hang around my neck like a lanyard.

I put them on to preach, since I don't use notes, but take them off to read the Gospel and celebrate because with them on, I can't see the books.

I got a card from my opthamologist telling me I need a yearly exam.

I once tried trifocals and they made me dizzy and crazy.

I can drive and watch TV with my glasses and do most everything else without them.

I had strange cataracts quite young, probably from the steroids I've taken over the years. The surgeon took me from 200/20 to about 40/20--which means I still need glasses to drive and see birds clearly in the back yard and watch a movie. Had my cataracts been only a few years later, I could be 20/20 and wear sunglasses instead of glasses that turn dark when exposed to sunlight.

It's a tad odd, needing glasses for so little and yet really needing them.

I guess I'll go for the exam but won't change my frames since they are Armani and made of graphite or something like that and weigh almost nothing. Plus, they are black and red and really cool.

Being Appalachian

I am an Appalachian person. I grew in the the southern most county of West Virginia (MACdowell County as we said it). When someone didn't emphasize the first syllable, we knew they weren't one of 'us'.

My wife grew up 10 miles or so from me--but she doesn't define herself as an Appalachian. She defines herself as Italian and Hungarian, which she is. She never had an Appalachian accent, growing up in a household that spoke English as a second language.

I've been in New England for 37 of my years (two in graduate school in Cambridge and 35 in Connecticut) but people sometimes ask me if I'm a 'southerner' because of the way I sound. I'm quick to correct them--"I'm an Appalachian!", I say and then tell them the difference.

Appalachians are from southern West Virginia, south-eastern Virginia, north-eastern North Carolina, much of Kentucky and Tennessee. Some people in southern Ohio might think they are, but they're not, trust me.

All these Scotch-Irish and British folks made it into the mountains and then didn't go further west.

Example: my grandmother used to say, "pon my swanee" when something happened she didn't expect or understand. I was an English major and discovered that there was a Middle-English oath: "upon my Swan Lea". Centuries later, my grandmother was still saying that in an altered form. Those folks just got lost in the mountains and ignored by the rest of the world. Of course, by my time, the coal mines had attracted Europeans of all stripes--like my wife--who still identified with their ethnicity rather than where they lived.

You had to grow up in a place where dawn was an hour late and dusk an hour early because of the mountains to be an Appalachian. You had to wonder the mountains endlessly as a child. You had to see the coal dust on your car every morning. And you have to know you're not a Southerner, not at all, not in any way--your identity is tied to the mountains, deep in their soil.

(untitled post)

Yesterday I was about to write a post when I realized it was Tuesday, the day I declare sometime ago, I would reject all media. I had forgotten and signed off, leaving an 'untitled post'.

So, it's Wednesday and here is the post--still untitled and not very interesting (except that it points our how forgetful I can be.)

Take a media free Tuesday--but look to see if I posted, just to keep me honest.

Weddings and Baptisms

One thing I miss about not being the Rector of a large urban church is I don't get to do as many Weddings and Baptisms as I did before I retired. I really love weddings and baptisms. In my time in the Cluster, with the three small churches, I've done a handful of Baptisms and only one wedding. I did bless another marriage but a JP did the vows and signed the marriage license since the couple had divorces and didn't want to go through the rig-a-ma role (is that the way to spell it?) that Canon Law required to be re-married by a priest. I don't blame them. I've always resented having to explain to a bishop who didn't know the man and woman from Adam and Eve, why I should be able to be the celebrant at their marriage. I knew them, for goodness sake, why shouldn't I decide? (My problem with Authority showing its head....)

This year I did officiate at the marriage of Fred and Joe--the first same-sex marriage license I've been able to sign with the blessing of my church.

Those are two things I've never refused to do for people--weddings and baptisms. I know priests who put up road-blocks to people wanting to be married in the church or baptizing children of people who weren't active members. Not me. Throughout my priesthood, I've been 'Marrying Sam' and 'Baptizing Bob'.

There are two reasons for this: first, I really, really, truly believe in the 'objective reality' of the Sacraments. I'm Anglo-Catholic in my theology if not my liturgical style. Sacraments ARE 'outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace'--and REALITY, I would add to that. Sacraments are 'real'. Blessing two people wanting to become One as well and marking a child as 'Christ's own forever', means just what the words say. Who could deny that to anyone--the graces of God?

The second reason is a bit more skeptical: I am not only convinced that the church is basically irrelevant in 21st century America...I embrace that truth. I like living in a pre-Nicene era of Christianity where we are one of may possibilities. So, when anybody wants the church involved in their lives, I am over-joyed and set up no roadblocks (unless having a time to meet and talk together is a roadblock--no one in my ministry has ever balked at getting to know me and me getting to know them in a non-judgmental setting.)

I did a dozen or so weddings a year at St. John's and two or three times that many baptisms every year. So I had one class for the weddings in the year (5 sessions) and one morning long session 4 times a year for baptismal families.

Over those 20 years, 3 couples decided it wasn't time to get married because of the classes. I considered those major victories since the classes saved them a world of hurting later. One came back a year later and, I know, are still married. The other two never returned. God love them and bless them--they made the right choice.

Anyway, all this is prompted because in October I'll be the celebrate at the Celebration and Blessing of a Marriage. I met with the couple today.

I always tell people on first meeting: "I'm going to ask you a question and there is really only one wrong answer. The question is: 'why do you want to get married'?"

Over the years about 75% of the couples joined hands, looked into each others' eyes and said--one or both of them--"we're in love!"

And I've said, every time, "that's the one wrong answer.'

Which frees me to talk about 'love' as an 'emotion' that comes and goes and to suggest what 'makes a marriage' is commitment, not love. Commitment is something you 'create' out of nothing--not something you 'feel'. "Feelings", I've come to believe, are highly overrated reasons for actions. Hate is a feeling. Envy is a feeling. Guilt is a feeling. Jealousy is a feeling. I would suggest none of those 'feelings' can lead to any creative action. Neither can 'love'. Actions that are positive and life-giving and creative come, not from feelings (even feelings like compassion or empathy--which create actions that feel like 'pity' to the other person) but from 'commitments'--'saying so and meaning it and standing by it in spite of feelings...."

There were lots of reasons to like the couple I spent an hour with today--they're funny and kind and enjoy each others' company and smile a lot at each other. But the reason I really like them is how they answered the question "why do you want to get married?"

She said: "We want to spend our lives together." He said, "we want to move this relationship to a new level."

Sounds like commitment to me. Writ large. I love these two people. They are very different, but so are Bern and I. Really different. Maybe balance for each other.

And we're coming up on our 45th anniversary.

(The groom said, "you can't be married that long--you aren't that old." I told him we were babies. And we were....)

Peter from Scotland

I get lots of views on my blog. One day last week there were 278. Usually 50 or so. But I seldom get comments.

I did a few days ago about a blog about how I thought Fox News was trying to wound Donald Trump because he couldn't possibly win the Presidency. And that's why I love him, that he's dragging the Republicans over the cliff.

And PeterfromScotland commented that the Conservatives in Britain are rooting for a left-wing person to take over the Labor Party and, thence, kill it.

Just like me rooting for Trump, but in reverse.

This whole Left/Right thing is ridiculous to me. I simply can't understand why everyone isn't a democratic socialist like me!

Truly, when I hear the Republicans talk it's like they're drunk or insane.

Why isn't everyone for a single-payer health plan, free public college, rules against power plants, income redistribution--huge taxes on the rich, generous social programs for the poor, a livable minimum wage, the agreement with Iran...stuff like that.

It just makes so much sense to me--all that and more left-wing stuff--that I can't imagine anyone not wanting all that and more.

Which is my Achilles Heal--I can't imagine anyone disagreeing with me. I am genuinely surprised when someone does.

I believe myself to be the moral and social and political "norm".

Imagine how uprooted and confused that makes me, given reality....

How good can August be?

The last three days the only AC we've had on is the huge one in my office. We keep the door to the rest of the upstairs door closed, and, as anyone knows--cold air sinks and warm air rises, so all the cold from this monster up here goes down to make the downstairs more than comfortable. It hasn't been warmer that 75 in our dining room--the room furthest from my office all summer.

But the last few days, just fans in windows in our TV room and bedroom and blissfully cool.

School is about to start in CT and there hasn't really been a summer at all, not like usual, anyway.

A hot., humid day here and there--but for the most part low 80's in the day and 60's at night. Easy to live with.

I think I've suggested before that Connecticut has such great weather because we're the Bluest State. All democrats in state and federal offices. God loves democrats, I believe.

But then, there are the winters!

Not God-sent by any means....

Creatures on the altar

There was a tiny creature on the altar today at St. Andrew's, Northford. It was teeny-tiny, I have no idea what it was. Smaller than a gnat it was, crawling slowly across the Paten and then the corporal and then the fair linen. (If you don't know what those words refer to, google it.)

I've often encountered creatures on altars. Mostly spiders, it seem to me, but from time to time a ladybug or a bee.

I never kill them. It just seems too awful an act, to kill a creature of God on the altar of God.

It reminds me of a time years ago at St. John's, Waterbury, when we always had seminarians from Yale. Some seminarian or another had invited his/her classmates from fieldwork to come see where she/he worked. I was asked to celebrate the Eucharist for a dozen or so students and their professor.

I did so, and afterwards a particularly studious seminarian (she'd been taking notes during the tour of the church and even during the Eucharist!) came up to me.

"Father Bradley", she said (that 'Father stuff really annoys me), "I'd like to ask you about some of your manual acts I've never seen before."

Well, I went to Virginia Seminary where "manual acts" were at a minimum and I seldom do anything besides make the sign of the cross over the bread and wine--not much else.

"OK," I said, "ask away."

"Well," she said, looking at her notes, "several times you waved your hand above the chalice at times I've never seen before."

I almost laughed and would have if she hadn't been so serious. "Fruit flies", I told her.

And she wrote it down.

Creatures at the altar. You've got to love them.