Tomorrow morning we're taking the dog to the kennel and driving to Baltimore to be with the girls--our three granddaughters until late Saturday afternoon.
We've got the drive down cold. Once we made it home--288 miles--in 4 hours and 12 minutes!
But being with Emma, Morgan and Tegan...that you can never predict.
They are so smart and so good and so funny--well, just what I'd expect my offspring's offspring to be.
I have no way to blog until we get home on Halloween.
Maybe you'll hear from me on All Saints' Day....
Shalom, jim
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
The moon, the moon....
The moon, in the sky beyond the half dozen hemlocks beside our back porch, is as full as it can be in the eastern sky.
OK, I know the moon doesn't really shrink and then swell, it's all about the earth blocking the sun that reflects off the moon. I know that. But I like to think the moon does really shrink into darkness and then swell into wholeness. It seems right.
"Lunatic" comes from the Latin for 'moon'--luna. And I truly believe the moon has an effect on the way we are.
At St. John's, all the years I was there, we dreaded the full moon. Crazy people got crazier and people who didn't seem crazy got a little bit crazy.
Folks in the Soup Kitchen acted out a bit more. Street People became more aggressive. And a Vestry meeting on the night of a full moon would devolve into nonsense.
No kidding.
I actually knew today that the moon would be full tonight. I had this energy unlike my normal energy--just a little off the grid. I said things to people I probably wouldn't say at a quarter moon or half-moon and never in the dark of the moon.
I like believing the cosmos has some power in our lives. Like the moon drives us a bit. And the seasons make us different. The Spring 'me' is different than the late Autumn 'me'.
We are looked over and driven by the stars. Don't tell me astrological signs are meaningless. I am Aries on the cusp of Torus and that rules my extroversion and my irony. I really know that.
If you get a chance, go out and look at the moon tonight or tomorrow night. A full moon is a lot of energy. Really.
OK, I know the moon doesn't really shrink and then swell, it's all about the earth blocking the sun that reflects off the moon. I know that. But I like to think the moon does really shrink into darkness and then swell into wholeness. It seems right.
"Lunatic" comes from the Latin for 'moon'--luna. And I truly believe the moon has an effect on the way we are.
At St. John's, all the years I was there, we dreaded the full moon. Crazy people got crazier and people who didn't seem crazy got a little bit crazy.
Folks in the Soup Kitchen acted out a bit more. Street People became more aggressive. And a Vestry meeting on the night of a full moon would devolve into nonsense.
No kidding.
I actually knew today that the moon would be full tonight. I had this energy unlike my normal energy--just a little off the grid. I said things to people I probably wouldn't say at a quarter moon or half-moon and never in the dark of the moon.
I like believing the cosmos has some power in our lives. Like the moon drives us a bit. And the seasons make us different. The Spring 'me' is different than the late Autumn 'me'.
We are looked over and driven by the stars. Don't tell me astrological signs are meaningless. I am Aries on the cusp of Torus and that rules my extroversion and my irony. I really know that.
If you get a chance, go out and look at the moon tonight or tomorrow night. A full moon is a lot of energy. Really.
Frank
Frank was a member of St. Andrew's in Northford. He died Saturday at CT Hospice in Branford, overlooking the Long Island Sound. He was 80.
When I first spoke to Cheryl, his only child, we talked mostly about being only children watching parents die, how lonely that is. Her mother died several years ago. I went through the same thing though my mother died 13 years or so before my father. It is an odd thing to be the only person who knows them the way you know them and watch them slip away. No one is there to share in the memories--they are only yours. That conversation was on a visit to Hospice when Frank was asleep the whole time--unable to be awakened. Two only children, we were, sharing one of the dark things about having no siblings.
After he died, I told her I was supposed to be in Baltimore on Saturday, when the funeral was, but that I would come home early and let Bern ride the train home and she told me she didn't want me to do that. She said visiting Frank, as I did at Yale New Haven Hospital and Hospice was more important. Plus Ted, a priest Frank knew much longer than he knew me, was doing the funeral and could do the whole service perfectly well.
Today I met with Cheryl and her cousin, Clair, who is shepherding Cheryl through all this, I offered once more to come home early. She didn't know why I was to be in Baltimore and when I told her I would be visiting my grand-daughters for the first time since Easter, she did some very expressive movements and said, "My father would never forgive me if I asked you to shorten your time with your granddaughters. My father was all about family...."
Frank spent his life working against prostitution and human trafficking. Way ahead of his time. His daughter told me people thought he was crazy, worrying about such things. But Frank told me he'd gotten over 200 women off the street who stayed off the street and built new lives. Few people I know can say they saved that many people!
He was a remarkable man. I would have left Baltimore early--at 6 a.m. to get to the noon service--for Frank. But I wouldn't want him never to forgive his daughter for making me....
And Ted will do a wonderful job.
When I first spoke to Cheryl, his only child, we talked mostly about being only children watching parents die, how lonely that is. Her mother died several years ago. I went through the same thing though my mother died 13 years or so before my father. It is an odd thing to be the only person who knows them the way you know them and watch them slip away. No one is there to share in the memories--they are only yours. That conversation was on a visit to Hospice when Frank was asleep the whole time--unable to be awakened. Two only children, we were, sharing one of the dark things about having no siblings.
After he died, I told her I was supposed to be in Baltimore on Saturday, when the funeral was, but that I would come home early and let Bern ride the train home and she told me she didn't want me to do that. She said visiting Frank, as I did at Yale New Haven Hospital and Hospice was more important. Plus Ted, a priest Frank knew much longer than he knew me, was doing the funeral and could do the whole service perfectly well.
Today I met with Cheryl and her cousin, Clair, who is shepherding Cheryl through all this, I offered once more to come home early. She didn't know why I was to be in Baltimore and when I told her I would be visiting my grand-daughters for the first time since Easter, she did some very expressive movements and said, "My father would never forgive me if I asked you to shorten your time with your granddaughters. My father was all about family...."
Frank spent his life working against prostitution and human trafficking. Way ahead of his time. His daughter told me people thought he was crazy, worrying about such things. But Frank told me he'd gotten over 200 women off the street who stayed off the street and built new lives. Few people I know can say they saved that many people!
He was a remarkable man. I would have left Baltimore early--at 6 a.m. to get to the noon service--for Frank. But I wouldn't want him never to forgive his daughter for making me....
And Ted will do a wonderful job.
Monday, October 26, 2015
Why email is a bad idea
So, I noticed on the Clergy News from the Episcopal Church in CT that Nathan Ives, our new Deacon in the Cluster was listed as being 'missioner' of the Middlesex Area Cluster Ministry, I emailed him to poke fun at that (since I'm the 'interim" 'missioner', not him.)
But he got concerned and emailed Linda at the Commons (the diocesan headquarters) to get it right.
It was perfectly 'right' from the beginning. I take nothing personal, nothing, I just thought it was humorous. But now it becomes an issue.
NEVER, EVER use email to truly communicate anything besides dates and times.
I've often had email be the Evil One on many occasions because email cannot convey skepticism or irony and most everything I say is either skeptical or ironic.
Perhaps, you might say, I should be more concrete and factual in email. And I should. But I am prone to skepticism and irony and don't know how to convey that from a keyboard.
Anything that isn't factual and concrete should never be conveyed by email. That's what I believe and am convinced of, by the way.
I've know so many email wars--my own and others--that ensued because email can't convey subtlety and nuance in any way.
Email me about when and where we are to meet. That will work. Or what time to call you. That will work. But don't try to go beyond place and time and fact in an email.
It will always end in horror. Seriously.
And never, ever try to be funny or ironic in an email. I can guarantee you that won't work. Never. Ever.
Email is a bad idea, truly.
Maybe me should revert to phones and since you can't see anyone on a phone, revert to doing anything of import face to face.
That I could agree to and applaud.
But he got concerned and emailed Linda at the Commons (the diocesan headquarters) to get it right.
It was perfectly 'right' from the beginning. I take nothing personal, nothing, I just thought it was humorous. But now it becomes an issue.
NEVER, EVER use email to truly communicate anything besides dates and times.
I've often had email be the Evil One on many occasions because email cannot convey skepticism or irony and most everything I say is either skeptical or ironic.
Perhaps, you might say, I should be more concrete and factual in email. And I should. But I am prone to skepticism and irony and don't know how to convey that from a keyboard.
Anything that isn't factual and concrete should never be conveyed by email. That's what I believe and am convinced of, by the way.
I've know so many email wars--my own and others--that ensued because email can't convey subtlety and nuance in any way.
Email me about when and where we are to meet. That will work. Or what time to call you. That will work. But don't try to go beyond place and time and fact in an email.
It will always end in horror. Seriously.
And never, ever try to be funny or ironic in an email. I can guarantee you that won't work. Never. Ever.
Email is a bad idea, truly.
Maybe me should revert to phones and since you can't see anyone on a phone, revert to doing anything of import face to face.
That I could agree to and applaud.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
The worst news ever....
I read an article on-line by a climate scientist who said that if climate change continues at it's present pace, New England will lose Autumn 'in our lifetime'.
In the southern states, there is no 'Autumn' like we know it here in Connecticut. Most trees stay green year round. And we too will lose the wondrous color of leaves 'in our lifetime'.
I hope not mine.
I drove to Higganum today and then to Killingworth and back to Higganum and then to Middletown and back home. The landscape is awash in gold and yellow and red. It is remarkable. No wonder people drive hundreds of miles to see Autumn in New England. Glorious!
And to think most Republicans and nearly 50% of all Americans don't yet believe humans are causing climate change. Astonishing.
I've believed from the first hint of 'global warning' a decade or two ago. And I've noticed the weird weather, even here and more so in California and the southwest and midwest, all that time. But the thought of losing Autumn is the worst news ever.
Not in my life-time, please.
My heart breaks to imagine it.
In the southern states, there is no 'Autumn' like we know it here in Connecticut. Most trees stay green year round. And we too will lose the wondrous color of leaves 'in our lifetime'.
I hope not mine.
I drove to Higganum today and then to Killingworth and back to Higganum and then to Middletown and back home. The landscape is awash in gold and yellow and red. It is remarkable. No wonder people drive hundreds of miles to see Autumn in New England. Glorious!
And to think most Republicans and nearly 50% of all Americans don't yet believe humans are causing climate change. Astonishing.
I've believed from the first hint of 'global warning' a decade or two ago. And I've noticed the weird weather, even here and more so in California and the southwest and midwest, all that time. But the thought of losing Autumn is the worst news ever.
Not in my life-time, please.
My heart breaks to imagine it.
A lot like work
I love my little job with the Middlesex Area Cluster Ministry and the three churches in that Cluster--gems all. I really do. It's great fun.
But the last few days--and tomorrow--it has felt a lot more like 'work' than 'fun'.
Friday night: wedding rehearsal in Higganum.
Saturday night: Harvest Dinner in Northford.
Sunday: 9 am service in Higganum; 11 a.m. talk to wedding couple in Killingworth; 2:30 wedding in Higganum and glass of wine at reception; 4 p.m. Wake in Middletown.,
Tomorrow: 10:30 am and 1:30 pm graveside services.
I'm not complaining and I'm honored and humbled to do all these things. But the last few days haven't felt like a 12 hour a week job in my retirement!
Just me talkin'. I'm not used to some much activity. I haven't read a single book since Friday. Puts me behind....
But I do love the Cluster and the people there....
I'm not complaining.
Just, please, not every week.
But the last few days--and tomorrow--it has felt a lot more like 'work' than 'fun'.
Friday night: wedding rehearsal in Higganum.
Saturday night: Harvest Dinner in Northford.
Sunday: 9 am service in Higganum; 11 a.m. talk to wedding couple in Killingworth; 2:30 wedding in Higganum and glass of wine at reception; 4 p.m. Wake in Middletown.,
Tomorrow: 10:30 am and 1:30 pm graveside services.
I'm not complaining and I'm honored and humbled to do all these things. But the last few days haven't felt like a 12 hour a week job in my retirement!
Just me talkin'. I'm not used to some much activity. I haven't read a single book since Friday. Puts me behind....
But I do love the Cluster and the people there....
I'm not complaining.
Just, please, not every week.
Saturday, October 24, 2015
The 'collar' and 'cross' thing
Since I brought it up in my post about Aunt Elise, I might as well deal with it tonight.
I'm lost in linear time, so I can't tell you accurately when I stopped wearing clerical collars and crosses. But it's been a decade or more.
I wore a cross for decades, under my clothes. I didn't want it to be a public thing--it was between me and God. And for a good while, I wore a cross on Sundays with my 'priest' outfit.
I stopped wearing a collar first. Still a cross under my shirt, out of sight. I never liked collars because I have a short neck and the wrap-around Anglican collars were uncomfortable. Much of the time I would wear a black shirt without a collar. People pointed that out to me. "You don't have on a collar," they would say. And I would point out I had on a black shirt.
It was most likely around 2000 that I stopped wearing even a black shirt.
One thing about a clerical collar--in public places, it causes unnatural silence. Walk into a bar with a clerical collar on and all life pauses, ceases and falls into silence.
It's a conversation stopper in most places outside of church.
I stopped because I didn't like a collar and I was tired of wearing black shirts.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And several years after I stopped wearing a collar, I met a parishioner in a grocery store and she said, "I've never seen you without a collar." Then I knew that people who needed to see one would see one whether I had one on or not. Amen.
The cross thing is more theological. At some point, after I stopped wearing a collar, I asked myself why I still had a cross under my clothes.
And I had no answer. I didn't need a 'secrete cross' to be connected to God and I didn't want a 'public cross' to proclaim the un-proclaimable.
So the cross came off and I stopped wearing one over my robe on Sundays.
I simply didn't need it. I've always been against 'uniforms'. So, I took mine off.
I'm a Priest without a collar. I'm a Christian without a cross.
Extraneous is the word I'd use. I'm just shedding the extraneous stuff of my faith. And I've shed a lot of the nonsense the church 'made up' in the form of doctrine and dogma as well. I've got this 'following Jesus" down to a handful of beliefs. It hurts my heart to say the Nicene Creed these days because so much of the is extraneous...like a collar and a cross. Two of the three churches have picked up on this and we say a canticle or psalm instead of the Creed most of the time.
The older I get, the less I need to 'believe'.
I believe God loves me.
I believe I am created in the image and likeness of God.
I believe we must welcome the stranger.
I believe we must love one another as God loves us.
I believe we must serve those in need.
Beyond that, I have nothing else I need to believe. Just as I don't need a collar or a cross to be a priest of God.
Just that. Nothing else. I have no argument with those who wear collars or crosses. God bless them.
I just stand where I stand. Nothing more.
I'm lost in linear time, so I can't tell you accurately when I stopped wearing clerical collars and crosses. But it's been a decade or more.
I wore a cross for decades, under my clothes. I didn't want it to be a public thing--it was between me and God. And for a good while, I wore a cross on Sundays with my 'priest' outfit.
I stopped wearing a collar first. Still a cross under my shirt, out of sight. I never liked collars because I have a short neck and the wrap-around Anglican collars were uncomfortable. Much of the time I would wear a black shirt without a collar. People pointed that out to me. "You don't have on a collar," they would say. And I would point out I had on a black shirt.
It was most likely around 2000 that I stopped wearing even a black shirt.
One thing about a clerical collar--in public places, it causes unnatural silence. Walk into a bar with a clerical collar on and all life pauses, ceases and falls into silence.
It's a conversation stopper in most places outside of church.
I stopped because I didn't like a collar and I was tired of wearing black shirts.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And several years after I stopped wearing a collar, I met a parishioner in a grocery store and she said, "I've never seen you without a collar." Then I knew that people who needed to see one would see one whether I had one on or not. Amen.
The cross thing is more theological. At some point, after I stopped wearing a collar, I asked myself why I still had a cross under my clothes.
And I had no answer. I didn't need a 'secrete cross' to be connected to God and I didn't want a 'public cross' to proclaim the un-proclaimable.
So the cross came off and I stopped wearing one over my robe on Sundays.
I simply didn't need it. I've always been against 'uniforms'. So, I took mine off.
I'm a Priest without a collar. I'm a Christian without a cross.
Extraneous is the word I'd use. I'm just shedding the extraneous stuff of my faith. And I've shed a lot of the nonsense the church 'made up' in the form of doctrine and dogma as well. I've got this 'following Jesus" down to a handful of beliefs. It hurts my heart to say the Nicene Creed these days because so much of the is extraneous...like a collar and a cross. Two of the three churches have picked up on this and we say a canticle or psalm instead of the Creed most of the time.
The older I get, the less I need to 'believe'.
I believe God loves me.
I believe I am created in the image and likeness of God.
I believe we must welcome the stranger.
I believe we must love one another as God loves us.
I believe we must serve those in need.
Beyond that, I have nothing else I need to believe. Just as I don't need a collar or a cross to be a priest of God.
Just that. Nothing else. I have no argument with those who wear collars or crosses. God bless them.
I just stand where I stand. Nothing more.
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