We Remember, Gayle

One year ago today, we celebrated my sister's life at her memorial service - on her birthday.

Gayle, if you can hear us or read our thoughts, we love you, and we miss you. You have left a great emptiness in our hearts and in our lives.


O God of grace and glory, we remember before you this day our sister Gayle. We thank you for giving her to us, her family and friends, to know and to love as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us faith to see in death the gate of eternal life, so that in quiet confidence we may continue our course on earth, until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. "Book of Common Prayer", p. 493

Gayle loved the beach.

Thanks to Geek Philosopher for beach photo.

UPDATE: Folks, I'm obviously losing it. Tomorrow, May 5, is the anniversary. My relatives must truly think I'm crazy. Well, the post will serve for tomorrow. Where Gayle is, there is no time as we know it.

The Feast Day Of St. Monnica

"St. Monica" by Luis Tristan

I intended to write about St. Monnica today, but Saint Pat at "No Claim To Sainthood" has written two beautiful posts about St. Monnica and the Scripture readings of the day, and I know mine could not surpass hers. She promotes the women saints to good effect. Padre Mickey also has an excellent post up. The feast days have turned into something of a competition between the three of us - for me, if not for them. I usually end up feeling a bit redundant.

Note the different spelling of her name. James Kiefer, at the Lectionary, gives us the reason:

Her name has usually been spelled "Monica," but recently her tomb in Ostia was discovered, and the burial inscription says "Monnica," a spelling which all AC (Archaeologically Correct) persons have hastened to adopt. (On the other hand, it may simply be that the artisan who carved the inscription was a bad speller.)

There we are. For today, it's Monnica, mother of Augustine of Hippo, and Navigius, and a daughter, Perpetua. Monnica was a Christian from her early life, married to a pagan, Patricius.

She prayed for many years for her family to become Christians. Her husband did, finally, before he died. Augustine was a difficult case, but, in the end, God answered her prayers munificently.

Augustine's own very poignant account, of the death of Monica, taken from his "Confessions" speaks volumes about our saint of the day:

Because the day when she was to leave this life was drawing near – a day known to you, though we were ignorant of it – she and I happened to be alone, through (as I believe) the mysterious workings of your will. We stood leaning against a window which looked out on a garden within the house where we were staying, at Ostia on the Tiber; for there, far from the crowds, we were recruiting our strength after the long journey, in order to prepare ourselves for our voyage overseas. We were alone, conferring very intimately. Forgetting what lay in the past, and stretching out to what was ahead, we enquired between ourselves, in the light of present truth, into what you are and what the eternal life of the saints would be like, for Eye has not seen nor ear heard nor human heart conceived it. And yet, with the mouth of our hearts wide open we panted thirstily for the celestial streams of your fountain, the fount of life which is with you.

This was the substance of our talk, though not the exact words. Yet you know, O Lord, how on that very day, amid this talk of ours that seemed to make the world with all its charms grow cheap, she said, “For my part, my son, I no longer find pleasure in anything that this life holds. What I am doing here still, or why I am still here, I do not know, for worldly hope has withered away for me. One thing only there was for which I desired to linger in this life: to see you a Catholic Christian before I died. And my God has granted this to me more lavishly than I could have hoped, letting me see even you spurning earthly happiness to be his servant. What am I still doing here?”

What I replied I cannot clearly remember, because just about that time – five days later, or not much more – she took to her bed with fever. One day during her illness she lapsed into unconsciousness and for a short time was unaware of her surroundings. We all came running, but she quickly returned to her senses, and, gazing at me and my brother as we stood there, she asked in puzzlement, “Where was I?”

We were bewildered with grief, but she looked keenly at us and said, “You are to bury your mother here”. I was silent, holding back my tears, but my brother said something about his hope that she would not die far from home but in her own country, for that would be a happier way. On hearing this she looked anxious and her eyes rebuked him for thinking so; then she turned her gaze from him to me and said, “What silly talk!” Shortly afterwards, addressing us both, she said, “Lay this body anywhere, and take no trouble over it. One thing only do I ask of you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be”. Having made her meaning clear to us with such words as she could muster, she fell silent, and the pain of the disease grew worse.

Thanks to The Crossroads Initiative for the painting and the quote from "The Confessions".

Also, The Catholic Encyclopedia provided information for this post.

From "Barkings Of An Old Dog"

From Clumber at Barkings Of An Old Dog in his own comments:

Well, in truth, haven’t we all had our period of “Saying the creeds with fingers crossed”? Same with the rest of it all… my theory is that in the course of our journey we all get lost, get found, get “it”, miss “it”, drop the ball, find the trail, loose it again, and miss the point, fail to hear the message, completely understand the Big Picture, and continue to repeat this throughout our life…. given that, what does a shared set of beliefs mean? If tomorrow I wake up confused, dazed, lost, and helpless and think I have to start saying the creeds with fingers crossed again, am I then out of the communion?

I say no.

As long as you want to be here, we want you here! Even if all the stuff that we say matters, doesn’t matter to you. Maybe you’re here for our coffee hour, maybe for the music, maybe for the smiles of the people around you. Eventually, God’s message will get through to you and me… or maybe it won’t. But the doors and the table are open for you to come and be fed, in whatever way you are fed at the Anglican Pub. Who are we to set up this club and create the membership rules? This isn’t our club, it’s God’s club. He holds the franchise rights here, not us. Our Anglican services do have rules, regulations, standards, but if you want to participate, then come on in and sit down. We have a lot of work to do here, and we can use all the hands we can get. The Kingdom of God is here! The first step in that is to live like you believe it. We need to stop checking credentials at the doors to God’s Church!

Blessings to all of you wandering this way and thinking about these things… it’s a joy to talk with each of you!

Amen, and amen, and amen to what you say, you old dog.

The Rothko Chapel

Interior view of The Rothko Chapel with the Northwest, North triptych, and Northeast wall paintings by Mark Rothko. Photo by Hickey-Robertson. The Rothko Chapel, Houston.


Pictured above is one of my favorite places in Houston. The atmosphere in the Rothko Chapel is close to the most serene that I have ever encountered. The calming effect is almost immediate, like a tranquilizer taking effect.

On my first visit to the chapel, as I stepped inside from the bright sunlight, I saw what appeared to be several large, rectangular, black panels, pretty much all the same, except for sizes and shapes. Upon closer inspection, I saw that they were not black at all, but shades of dark grey, dark blue, and very dark red. In addition, on each panel one could see different shades of the major color of the panel. Several of the side panels include a border of a different color, but all is subtle, thus my first impression of all black panels. The longer you observe the panels, the richer the experience.

Here's a view of the floor plan showing the placement and shape of the panels.

Benches and chairs and even floor cushions are available for meditation or quiet moments. I spent time just sitting in quiet and praying. It's restorative just to be there in the lovely surroundings and quiet.

The Broken Obelisk, Barnett Newman's sculpture, stands outside in a reflecting pool. I sat on a bench outside by the pool for a while, too. How lovely to be in such a beautiful and peaceful place.

The story of the restoration of the obelisk, which had become unstable, is one of huge difficulties overcome.

For nine years the Rothko Chapel has presented The Oscar Romero Award for peace. Below are the wise and wonderful words of Roman Catholic Archbishop Oscar Romero of San Salvador.

“Peace is not the product of terror or fear. Peace is not the silence of cemeteries. Peace is not the silent result of violent repression. Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is a duty.” - Oscar Romero, January 7, 1978

On Sunday, April 22, 2007, the Rothko Chapel presented the ninth Oscar Romero Award to Shanti Sellz and Daniel Strauss, student volunteers for the human rights organization No More Deaths. They were each awarded $5,000 for their work with No More Deaths, a diverse coalition working to end the suffering and the deaths of migrants in the Arizona-Sonora (Mexico) borderlands. Sellz and Strauss chose No More Deaths to receive half of the award in the amount of $10,000.

From Wiki on Archbishop Oscar Romero:

As archbishop, of San Salvador, he witnessed numerous violations of human rights and began a ministry speaking out on behalf of the poor and victims of the country's civil war. Chosen to be archbishop for his conservatism, once in office his conscience led him to embrace a non-violent form of liberation theology, putting him in the line of Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King. In 1980, he was assassinated by gunshot shortly after his homily.

Oscar Romero is a candidate for sainthood in the Roman Catholic Church, but I am proud to say that he already has a feast day in the Episcopal Church calendar. Thanks be to God.

What more could one ask for from a place?

The Windsor Bishops' Letter

From The Living Church Foundation, via Galleycat, via Jim Naughton (enough "vias"?) comes word of a letter from a group of Windsor bishops to the Archbishop of Canterbury. The signatories do not include my bishop, Charles Jenkins, who has, in the past, described himself a Windsor bishop.

The letter states:

“We want to reassure you that we are committed to the Camp Allen principles and realize that for us, they are the way by which we intend to remain united as we move forward in these challenging days,” the bishops stated in an April 26 letter.

“We also realize that the covenant process is critical to these discussions, and indeed is the focal point of the work now underway to define our life together. For us, neither of these commitments has wavered in light of the recent decisions by the House of Bishops.”

From "The Living Church Foundation":

The letter was signed by the following bishops:
• John W. Howe, Central Florida
• James M. Stanton, Dallas
• Jeffrey N. Steenson, Rio Grande
• Edward L. Salmon, Jr., retired, South Carolina
• Don A. Wimberly, Texas
• Gary W. Lillibridge, West Texas
• D. Bruce MacPherson, Western Louisiana

Jim Naughton says this:

The seven style themselves a “steering committee,” making one wonder how many passengers are on this particular bus. At one point, the group that endorsed the Camp Allen principles, numbered in the mid-20s, depending on when you were doing the counting. But their ranks have been reduced by retirements and defections occasioned by the harsh recommendations made to the Episcopal Church by the Primates of the Anglican Communion at their February meeting in Dar es Salaam.

And that was before the group’s leaders and its high profile consultants began shooting themselves in as many feet as they had amongst them.

Jim talks about the connection between the Reverend Radner of the Anglican Communion Institute and of the Institute for Religion and Democracy, and the Reverend Armstrong, also a member of the ACI, who "had been suspended from his duties as rector of Grace Church and Saint Stephen’s in Colorado Springs by the bishop of Colorado, the Rt. Rev. Rob O’Neill." Go read Jim to understand the tangled web. It's difficult to follow the connections and twists and turns.

The result:

So it came to pass that a five-man organization [ACI] that presumed to tell the 77-million member Anglican Communion how to resolve its internal difficulties had to disassociate itself from its own Web site. The ACI now has a new Web site, but credibility, unlike domain names, can’t be bought.

Again, where is my bishop in all of this? I don't know. There's nothing new on the website of the Diocese of Louisiana on the subject since Bishop Jenkins' statement on the House of Bishops meeting issued on April 4, 2007. This member of the flock is still in darkness.

I do believe that the unity of Windsor bishops is unraveling.

From The Lectionary

This morning I read this from Isaiah 30:18

Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show mercy to you.
For the Lord is a God of justice;
blessed are all those who wait for him.

and this from 2 Corinthians 4:5-6

For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

and I loved both passages.

"The Lord waits to be gracious to us". Think of it. He waits. God waits for us to reach out and take hold of his grace.

"[W]e proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake."

"[S]laves for Jesus' sake." That's right. God waits to share his grace with us so that once we take hold of it, we are empowered to go out and be his servants to bring light to a dark world for the sake of his Son, Jesus Christ.

The Dead Christ And The Angels

"The Dead Christ And The Angels" by Édouard Manet

This large painting by Manet was part of the exhibit from the Met at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts. I find the painting arresting, first of all, because Jesus truly looks dead. There's no evidence of the pinkish hue to the skin tone, which seems to be present in many of the paintings of Jesus after his death - as though he's not really dead.

Second, the setting of the painting is inside the tomb, before Jesus' Resurrection, which makes it unusual, if not unique, as both Holbein and Mantegna painted Jesus in the tomb. As you see, he is supported by one angel bearing an expression of what, to me, appears to be shock, and the other sitting beside, who seems devastated.

This is one of only two religious paintings by Manet, the other being "The Mocking of Christ". Manet was not a believer, and it is perhaps because of this that the Christ in the painting appears totally human, no light around him, no halo, a quality of the painting which I find quite moving.

I must mention that I have no expertise whatsoever in art, and this account of my experience of the painting is purely personal. My reaction to any work of art is first and foremost emotional and spiritual. I know very little about technique, brush work, and composition. All of my knowledge and study of those elements comes after the emotional attraction and spiritual connection or lack thereof.

Is that a sufficient disclaimer?

By all means, click on the painting to get the larger view.

Grand Time

"Boating" by Édouard Manet

The wonderful painting by Manet is one of many that I saw when I visited the Houston Museum of Fine Arts exhibit of French paintings from the Metropolitan Museum in New York.

My friend from my college days invitied me to visit her in Houston. We had not seen each other for several years, so I decided to go and, while I was there, take in the exhibit. The Met in NYC can be overwhelming, so it was good to see a manageable number of their masterpieces at the HMFA. Lovely way to spend an afternoon, indeed.

Before leaving, I joked about going to the city of freeways that turn into giant parking lots. However, my friend lives in a charming older house in a beautiful neighborhood full of old-growth trees. We took several enjoyable walks through the neighborhood, and we drove through other attractive sections, at times driving under oak tree canopies. I came away with a much more positive impression of Houston after this visit.

It was good to see my friend again. Even after years of not seeing each other, when we get together, we can pick up where we left off. It's almost as though time has not passed.

We gathered for meals and interesting and stimulating conversation a couple of times with several of her lively, intelligent, and well-informed friends. For my meal at the Mexican restaurant, I ordered a Mexican omelet called Tortilla Azteca, which included strips of cactus as one of the ingredients. My first taste of cactus, and it was delicious!

My friend, if you read this, thank you for a grand time.

UPDATE: I have been informed that another name for my Mexican omelet is huevos con napales.

Anniversary

"Waterlilies" by Claude Monet

Today is the one-year anniversary of the death of my beloved sister, Gayle. You can read about her in this post from earlier this month. I talk about The Dillenkoffer Endowment, which a friend of hers set up to provide college scholarships for GLBT students in Missouri and Kansas.

Beneath a slide show of pictures of her at the scholarship site are the words, "Gayle's rich life on earth came to an end on April 27, 2006 after a four month fight with pancreatic cancer. Her grand spirit lives on in the lives of so many."

That's so very true.

I say this about her in my post, "She was a lovely person, and I miss her terribly still, as she was my closest confidante." It's true today, and I want to remember her and honor her.

About the scholarships, I said this, "I'm sure she looks upon this memorial with great delight."

May God give her rest in the light of his love.

May God bless all of us who loved her and give us healing and peace.

Local Marines Are headed to Iraq Soon

From the Times-Picayune in New Orleans by Paul Purpura:

Ordered to defend an area that has witnessed some of the fiercest fighting since the war in Iraq began four years ago, more than 350 Belle Chasse-based active-duty and reserve Marines are soon bound for the region, the Marine Corps confirmed Thursday.

"That's what they live for," said Command Sgt. Maj. Michael Sprague of Marine Air Group 42, Detachment C. "They enjoy playing in the game rather than practicing all the time. What it boils down to, if you join the Marine Corps in this day and age and you haven't deployed, you've got to expect to." (Bolding mine)

Posted without comment, except, "God bless them and keep them safe."