It only snowed a few inches--maybe 4--but there was freezing rain mixed in so this morning it was slick.
Didn't try to go out.
Snowed a little more today, but the roads look clear and de-iced.
I'll go out in the morning to the grocery and see how it is.
Worse other places--like in Milton where the church is.
They got 10-12 inches.
And it's in the country, so I don't know when they cleared the roads.
Just ground cover so far at 7:30 p.m.
But more is on the way.
I take Brigit out at 8:30 and Bern put a towel by the back door.
Church is cancelled tomorrow.
Good call by the Wardens, I think.
Stay warm.
The Baptism of Jesus 1-7-24
We go from Jesus’ birth two weeks ago to John’s reflections on the “word” last week all the way to his baptism by John this week.
Epiphany was this week—commemorating the visit of the Magi and the manifestation of Jesus to the Gentiles.
Epiphany, along with Christmas and Easter, was one of the first three holy days of the church.
But back to the baptism.
Just before today’s gospel lesson in Mark, John was proclaiming the one mightier than him was coming. (Remember, John leaped in his mother’s womb when the Virgin Mary visited their home. John knew who Jesus was.) And when John saw Jesus coming to him, he asked that Jesus baptize him. But Jesus convinces John that he should baptize him.
And when he comes up out of the water, the heavens opened and the Spirit of God descended on him like a dove and a voice from Heaven said, “This is my son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
Then the Spirit led Jesus into the Wilderness for 40 days to be tempted by the Devil.
On page 858 of the Book of Common Prayer, the Catechism tells us that the two great sacraments given to the church are Holy Baptism and the Holy Eucharist.
That seems to make them equal sacraments—but for the most part, the Episcopal church says the Font leads to the Table. Baptism is admission to Communion.
But I’ve always thought if the Font could lead to the altar, why couldn’t the Altar lead to the Font?
So, I’ve always invited everyone to receive communion. Over my years as a priest, I’ve baptized several dozen people who wanted it after receiving communion before baptism.
Some of them choose—and it is their choice—to stop receiving communion until they are baptized, but others don’t want to give up the bread and wine for any time.
My own baptism was a strange trip.
I grew up in a Mountain Methodist church—very evangelical. New England Methodists wouldn’t feel at home there.
An Evangelist came to lead a revival when I was in the eighth grade. He scared me so bad, I went up to the altar to be ‘saved’!
A few weeks later, Rev. Lafferty, our part time minister and full-time coal miner, took us all to a Baptist church 10 miles away that had an indoor baptismal pool.
There he baptized us by immersion. Thing was, I was the first one to go in and he hadn’t told me he’s dunk me three times—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—so I didn’t hold my breath after the first dunk and he darn near drowned me!
Then the next day in my Math Class, my teacher, who was married to my father’s brother, announced to the class that “Jimmy has been saved and baptized”.
It embarrassed me so badly, I dropped my pencil and when I bent over to pick it up, I looked up Donna Comber’s dress.
Oh, no! I thought. It didn’t take!
The Episcopal church recognizes the baptism of other churches, so when I joined the Episcopal Church in college, I was not rebaptized. So, I guess it did “TAKE”!
The English word “baptism” comes from the Greek “Bab-tis-mo”—which means, literally, ‘to dip’.
It’s the word used to describe ‘dying a fabric’.
You dip the fabric into the dye until it is the shade you want.
After baptism, the priest anoints them with holy oil and says, “you are sealed by the holy Spirit in Baptism and ‘marked’ as Christ’s own forever.”
So, the person has been ‘marked’, dipped and dyed their true color.
Baptism is the most joyous thing I get to do as a priest.
I love it when people of all ages come to the font.
It gives me great satisfaction to cover their heads with water and smear them with oil.
Spend a few moments with me in silence reflecting on your thoughts about baptism. (silence)
God says to you, “you are my beloved, in whom I am well pleased”. Amen and amen.
I don't like New Year's Eve.
Never have, really.
We don't go out--though we have standing invitations to an annual New Year's Eve dinner party.
I think we should reflect on the Old Year rather than celebrate and drink too much to the new one.
2023 was not a stellar year.
Two horrible wars going on.
States taking away a woman's rights to say what happens to her body.
High anger toward GLBTQ rights.
A former President under 91 felony charges.
The bad year the Yankees had (needed to add that).
Homelessness and poverty on the rise in a very good economy.
Books being banned.
Mass shootings and no move in Congress for gun control.
Racism rampant.
On and on the list goes.
I'm glad to say good-bye to 2023.
But I'm not convinced 2024 will improve things much.
"Thoughtful Pondering in the New Year" is my greeting tonight....
The week between Christmas and New Year's Day is usually a blank for me. I lose track of the day.
This morning I changed clothes because I need a shirt I could roll up to get my biweekly shots.
Then I heard a show on NPR that is on Saturday.
I checked my phone and realized my shot appointment was yesterday!
How did I lose Friday?
Now I have to call Tuesday and reschedule.
Hope I don't lose another day before then....
Mimi came and picked Eleanor up before noon.
Eleanor woke up at 3:42 a.m., she told Bern, when Bern got up at 5:30 and saw the light on under her room's door.
Long day for Bern and she was very tired.
Luckily it was my day to cook dinner.
Coconut shrimp, asparagus with Bela mushrooms and cauliflower puffs with cheese pumped her up a bit.
But 24 hours with Eleanor and not much sleep is rough.
Her visit was wondrous but exhausting.
Keeping up with a 7 year old is beyond our means.....
Today my daughter, Mimi, dropped off my granddaughter, Eleanor, for an overnight with us while Mimi went on to New York on the train.`
Eleanor is 7 and much more interested in Bern than me.
She's much more interested in Brigit, our dog, than me.
But just being around her makes me joyful and full of wonder.
Someday, in a few years, I'll have the 'only child' talk with her.
Being an only child is a whole different experience than having siblings around.
I think I can help her recognize the good parts and negotiate the not so good parts.
I wish I'd had an 'only child' mentor....
Her being here makes the day special and unique.
