feeling old

I had blood drawn today for two different doctors I have appointments with next week. Seeing doctors makes me feel old.

My joints hurting makes me feel old.

Not remembering the name of plants and people makes me feel old.

Being half-way through a book before I realize I've read it before makes me feel old.

Forgetting what I'm looking for makes me feel old.

But I have found a cure for 'feeling old'--go sit in the blood draw place for a while.

This morning, in the 20 minutes I was there I saw half-a-dozen people who were, no kidding, OLD.

They could hardly walk, had trouble breathing, had to have someone with them to answer questions, seemed not to know where they were.

I can walk, breathe well, answer questions and (usually) know where I am.

So, whenever I start feeling old, I'm going to sneak into Quest Labs for a while, read a book and watch the 'old people'. Then I'll feel young for a while....Until my ankle hurts or can't remember 'gardenia' or my neighbor's kid's name or am searching through the refrigerator for God knows what.

That will tell me this: time for a visit at the blood drawing place...(what's it called again?...oh, yeal, Quest Labs....

almost meaningless theological musings

I had a deep conversation today with the folks I meet with most Tuesdays. Mostly is was my friend, Michael, and me.

Michael was explaining something he'd been told by a priest who works for the Episcopal Church in Connecticut (we used to call it "the Diocese", but don't now). She was talking about sacraments by using and inverted triangle to illustrate her point.

The broad, top line of the inverted triangle, was, she said, 'Baptism'--the primary 'sacrament' and went on to show how the other six 'derive' from baptism.

I sort of lost it at some point, because I don't see it that way at all. Jesus said to his disciples they must 'baptize' and they must 'share bread and wine in his memory and it would be his body and blood'. Sometimes we call Eucharist and Baptism the 'dominical sacraments' (my spell check says "dominical" is misspelled but won't give me an option for it)--it's like "anno dominus" (which my spellcheck doesn't like either but won't respond to my clicks on ABC)...'the year of our Lord'.

Jesus gave us those two sacraments. He never gave us the other five--confirmation, ordination, reconciliation, marriage and unction. Those the church 'made up' out of whole cloth.

I don't mind that. I am very 'low church' and informal in liturgical practice, but I have a very 'high' view of the Sacraments. Which means, I believe they mean something and aren't just 'symbols', as Protestants believe. I think sacraments 'matter' in a real way. Like in life.

The 7 are all 'real' to me. But Baptism and Eucharist are the primary ones from which the others flow.

All this is because I think the rule about 'being baptized' to receive communion is non-sense. To my understanding, only the disciples of Jesus who were previously followers of John the Baptist would have been 'baptized' at the Last Supper.

If the 'font' can lead to the Table, then the Table can lead to the 'font'.

I've known dozens of people who received communion before they were baptized and because 'the Body and Blood' really mean something, they came to ask for baptism.

That simple. The Spirit can lead both ways.

That's all I'm trying to say.

(I once gave communion to a man in Charleston, West Virginia who wore a turban and had a red dot on his head. I never saw him before or after. He just showed up after the service began, received communion and left before the recessional.

Several people asked me if I knew he was a Christian (baptized) or not. I told them it didn't matter. "If God really doesn't want unbaptized people receiving communion God can strike me dead or strike them dead. Whichever. But if they come to the Table and reach out their hands I cannot, cannot deny them Christ's Body."

The Table belongs to God, not to the Church.

This was all almost meaningless theological musings...but not to me!!!

read this book at your own risk

I just finished Joyce Carrol Oats' novel The Man with no Shadow.

Lordy, Lordy, it shook me up!

It's about an amnesiac and the psycho-neurologist who studies him for three decades.

Halfway through I started thinking I had amnesia. By the end I was broken hearted.

It is quite a trip. But not for the faint of heart.

Risk it if you want....

Don't blame me if you do.....

Happy Anniversary to me!

Today (May 15) was the 40th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood!

I didn't even know until I got home from church to an email from Louie Crew--a remarkable guy from New Jersey who is a big deal in the Episcopal Church as a lay person. Louie sends me a birthday greeting and an ordination anniversary greeting every year. I'm sure he sends them to every priest in the church and has a computer programmed to send them out, but even so, I profoundly appreciate his greetings.

So, why didn't I remember it was my anniversary?

Other priests I know are always sure of their anniversary of ordination. Bryan Spinks, who works with me in the Cluster, is having a special mass for his 40th next month, when I'll be in Italy. Bill, who comes to my Tuesday group is also having a celebration of his 50th while I'm gone.

Why don't I remember?

It can't be because it doesn't matter to me. Much of my identity--along with husband, father, grandfather, is tied up in being a priest. It's what I've been for 40 years, for goodness sake--about60% of my life. I think of myself as a 'priest' most of my waking life and dream about horrible mess ups of being a priest from time to time.

(I may have told you, I have a recurring dream of being in a huge theater with an altar, with famous people in the seats--Hillary Clinton, Julie Andrews, Andrew Young--people like that...and I come out with a 10 year old Black acolyte and open my Book of Common Prayer and it only has pictures and I can't remember how the service begins and eventually everyone but the acolyte leaves and he and I clean up. Pretty anxiety producing, huh?)

I remember my wedding Anniversary (June 5) and my children's and Bern's birthdays flawlessly. So why not when I was ordained?

In my mind it was June, not the middle of May, for some reason.

So I dug out my framed invitation to my ordination. Sure enough, May 15, 1986. St. James Church in Charleston, WV. Bern's cousin, Tony, did a drawing of a figure sitting on the ground hosting up a chalice and the words "Oh, taste and see how sweet the Lord is." The inside was the date and time and notice that the first of many 'dance eucharists' at St. James would be on the day of my first celebration of the eucharist. A wonderful member of St. James named Rimitha Spurlock had gotten the dozen or so teenage girls together and taught them liturgical dance--mostly to spirituals. They were great. Rimitha had danced with Cab Calloway before coming back to WV to care for her aging parents.

On the back of the invitation I had written these words:

My Good Friends,

You have been a part of  me.

Your love and prayers and dreams, you encouragement, honesty and strength, your guidance, your hope and your faith in me have enriched me so. You have shared yourselves with me.

Now I invite you to share in one of the most important days of my life. Please join with me, with Bern and Josh (Mimi wasn't born then) and with the whole family of St. James Church in celebration, you and thanksgiving on the day of my ordination to the priesthood.

Seems like I should remember "one of the most important days of my life", doesn't it.

And every year I don't. I need to ponder that, why I don't remember.

Maybe it's this simple. Every day of 'being a priest' has been more important to me than the day I 'became a priest'. Maybe that's it. As simple as it sounds.

Anyway, remembered or not, happy anniversary to me. 40 years and counting....


 

Pentecost sermon I won't give

 I was looking at old Pentecost sermons on my computer and this one came up. It's not the one I'll preach tomorrow, though it's worth it. But it's worth a view. Let the fire fall and the wind blow. Wear red.....

PENTECOST 2013

          Fear always says “no”.

          If you’re going to remember anything I say this morning—remember this: FEAR ALWAYS SAYS “NO.”

          And remember this as well: GOD SAYS “YES” TO US….

                                      ****

          Jesus’ friends were gathered in the same room they’d been using to hide. How many were there isn’t clear. The book of Acts says 120—though that number may be high. They huddled together, still frightened that the Temple authorities might be after them, still grieving in some way—though they had seen the Risen Lord time and again—and, most…most of all, terribly, wrenchingly lonely.

          Jesus had promised them they would be clothed in power. Jesus had promised them he would send an Advocate to be with them. Jesus had promised them they would be baptized in Fire. Jesus had promised them he was already preparing a place for them.

          But the promises seemed like so much pie crust to the disciples. They were still waiting for the promises to be fulfilled. They were frightened. And they were so lonely—so profoundly lonely.

                                                ****

          That image…that metaphor…that paradigm of being crowded into a lonely, frightening room rings true for us today.

           Fear haunts us these days. And though we huddle together in our fear, we are still so profoundly lonely. Fear speaks but one word and that word is “NO”.

          Our faith teaches us to be hospitable to strangers—but our Fear says “no” and we distrust those who are different from us and seek to keep people from Mexico and Muslims out.

                   Our faith teaches us that we are to be peacemakers—but our Fear says “no” and we demonize people half-a-world away and wage deadly war against them.

         

          Our faith teaches us to share our gifts with those in need—but our Fear says “no” and we live in the richest nation in the history of human kind where the gap between the rich and the poor gets wider every day.

          Our faith teaches us that “a little child shall lead us” and that we must become like children to enter the Kingdom of God—but our Fear says “no” as millions of children go underfed, undereducated and neglected in our midst.

          Remember this: Fear always says “NO”.

                                      ****  

There is no easy or simple way to explain it, what happened in that closed and fearful room on the first Pentecost—it happened like this: one moment the room was full of fear and the next moment the room was full of fire and a mighty wind fanned the flames until the fear was burned away and all that was left was hope and joy and those formerly frightened people “found their voices” and left their hiding place and spoke words that transformed the world.

We need the Fires of Pentecost to burn away our fears and the Winds of Pentecost to blow away our loneliness. We need the Spirit to give us our voices so we may proclaim the “Yes” of God to this world.

Fear always says “NO”—but God always says “Yes”….

We need a Pentecost. We need to know that God says “Yes” to us. That God calls us to wonder and joy and love and compassion and hospitality. And not just in the “big things”—God’s “Yes” to us is about “little things” too. God’s “Yes” to us is global, universal, total.

This is a poem by Kaylin Haught titled God Says Yes to Me. It is a Pentecost poem, whether she knew it or not.

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic

          and she said yes

          I asked her if it was okay to be short

          and she said it sure is

          I asked her if I could wear nail polish

          or not wear nail polish

          and she said honey

          she calls me that sometimes

          she said you can do just exactly what you want to

          Thanks God I said

          And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph

          my letters

          Sweetcakes God said

          Who knows where she picked that up

          What I’m telling you is

          Yes Yes Yes

          What Pentecost is about is God saying “Yes” to you and you and you and you and you and all of us.

          What Pentecost is about is the Spirit coming so we are never, ever, not ever lonely again.

          What Pentecost is about is Fire burning away Fear.

          What Pentecost is about—and listen carefully, this is important—Pentecost is about God saying to you and you and you and you and you and all of us:

          Sweetcakes, what I’m telling you is Yes Yes Yes.

What would Dwight Eisenhower (or my father) think

Cultures shift and change and transform and, sometimes, die. I know enough to know that.

But as the inevitable becomes true and Donald Trump will almost certainly be the Republican nominee for President--what kind of sea change is this?

My father was a member of the United Mine Workers Union and a life-long Republican. Those two things didn't seem compatible at the time, but given Trump's enormous win in West Virginia, it's not too odd today.

But the Republican party my father belonged to--the party of Eisenhower, Dirkson and Rockefeller--doesn't exist anymore. That was the party of Lincoln, not Trump and Cruz. It was a party that worried about building highways, not building reputations. It was the party of the man who freed the slaves, not the party that wanted to keep a nationality (Mexicans) and a faith (Muslims) out of the mixing-pot that is the United States.

I may have told you, I was a Republican (like my father) until my Senior year of High School. I even spray painted "AU H2O" on an abandoned building in Anawalt. Then I heard Goldwater say he wanted to privatize the Tennessee Valley Authority, the government entity that brought water to our town.

Even then, Republican or not, I trusted government more than private enterprise. I still do.

I want government to handle health-care and infrastructure and the military and social services and education. And I'd gladly pay more taxes to have all that handled better.

My father would have thought Ted Cruz was a moron and Donald Trump was a braggart.

He wouldn't recognize the party he loved--the party that has done all it could to take power from all unions.

I'm not sure he could have voted for Hillary, but he might have thought Bernie was a liberal Republican back then. And he could have been. That would have been possible for someone like Bernie to be a Republican.

No more. No more.

To keep President Eisenhower and my father from spinning in their graves, please don't vote for Trump in November.

Please. Pretty please with sugar on it....

Web woes affect people differently

I discovered about noon that I couldn't get online from my computer.

I mentioned it to Bern a couple of hours later when we were both reading on the deck. She went into 'fix it mode'.

I also noticed a bunch of TV stations weren't on either. I have no idea why I know it but I just assume that Cox handles all the stuff for us and if there was something wrong with internet Wi-Fi then it was wrong with cable TV.

Bern goes up to where the router and other things are in my office and started unhooked things and hooking them up again--a trick she'd learned before.

No joy. I suggest the TV/Wi-Fi connection but she isn't convinced. She tries to go on-line on her smart phone to get advice, but, oops! the Wi-Fi isn't working....

She fussed and fooled with things which, when I asked her if she could tell me what to do about it, she said 'no'.

So, I read on the deck, having made sure the channel for The Voice was working and Bern fretted.

I was thinking I wouldn't have to read anything about Donald Trump or look at email tonight, while Bern tried to phone Cox--their lines were busy. During the Voice she figured out an optional way to get on line on her phone and tried to email Cox--Cox's email (no big surprise! was down).

Half way through The Voice she said the only way to contact Cox was by tweet and said she'd probably, soon, have to join Twitter.

I watched TV.

Some stations and the internet came back on--which is how I'm writing this.

When she said Wi-Fi was back up I thought, "oh sh*t, I have to look at emails after all...."

We talked about my lazzie faire (sp!) attitude and her upset. Turns out she has this thing in the back of her mind when tech stuff goes wrong it's somehow her fault and she has to fix it. She knows it's an irrational thought, but there it is.

I don't know enough about all the technology to even imagine I did something to damage it!

I like 'being off the Grid' from time to time. Bern can't abide it.

Web woes affect people differently, is all I have to say.