Father Jake reflects on his recent quiet day for clergy in this post. In it, he speaks of the search for intimacy with God, and says:
When we talk about this longing for intimacy, it is essential that we include the shadow side of this longing. Intimacy includes ambivalence, fear, resistance and avoidance. If we become vulnerable enough to allow another to love us, and for us to return that love, we may get hurt. We may be rejected. We're not sure we can deal with that, especially if the one spurning us is the living God.
....
The point being that even for clergy, it is sometimes a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. And, if we are not careful, it is so easy to slip into the habit of avoiding God. We're much too busy running a non-profit organization, right?
In the comments, I said this:
IMHO, it is always a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. On the other hand, we must not lose hold of the truth that the living God loves us infinitely, without reservation, no matter what.
From the daily office today is this passage from Amos:
The Day of the Lord a Dark Day
Alas for you who desire the day of the Lord!
Why do you want the day of the Lord?
It is darkness, not light;
as if someone fled from a lion,
and was met by a bear;
or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall,
and was bitten by a snake.
Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light,
and gloom with no brightness in it?
I hate, I despise your festivals,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals
I will not look upon.
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
I will not listen to the melody of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
Amos 5:18-24
Christianity is not for the faint-hearted. The way laid out by the prophets and in the Gospel is not a smooth and easy road. Jesus' way goes against nearly everything that our culture pushes us toward. We walk against the wind the greater part of the time. Indeed, it's the way of the cross. The babe who's appearance we await was born to take the way of the cross. If we have any concept of this idea, then Advent is, indeed, a dark time.
But, thanks be to God, the babe incarnate broke through and came into the world to be one of us, to save us, to light the way to the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom which is right now, but not yet, the Kingdom in which "justice roll[s] down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream".
I don't know about you, but I need salvation every single day of my life, simply for my survival.
Now to him who is able to keep you from falling, and to make you stand without blemish in the presence of his glory with rejoicing, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, power, and authority, before all time and now and for ever. Amen.
Jude 24-25
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Sr. Wendy says....
Verena von Pfetton at the The Huffington Post:
Sister Wendy is the most adorable old lady on the face of the planet (see photo). She's also a nun. And not just any nun! She's a Consecrated Virgin nun. (Not that I know what that means, but it sounds very important and most definitely deserving of Capital Letters.) She's also a genius art historian who graduated from Oxford and has this video series through BBC and PBS ["Sister Wendy's Story of Painting"] in which she goes to museums and talks about art. She's written a few books, but her most recent (and the reason for her visit) is "Sister Wendy on Prayer". Oh, and did I mention she's taken a vow of solitude?
Why do I believe this young interviewer is not serious? She had not read the book, and the author called her on that.
Von Pfetten: Well... I haven't actually read the book. But I like the idea!
Sr. Wendy: Dear me, I wish you'd read the book. Then you could ask me why I said something or other on page 97 and how page 32 really speaks to you.
But - and it's a very big BUT - she asked Sr. Wendy a brilliant question. I'll give her due credit for that.
Von Pfetten: You've spoken out about gay marriage. How do you balance what you believe with what you have sworn to uphold?
Sr. Wendy: I believe in loyalty. We should respect our church, but never believe that the church has the last word. The church is saying "this", but I believe that sooner or later "this" will change. "This" is not the mind of our Lord. God is all love. It's a delicate balancing thing. The Church has changed it's position over the years, and because the spirit is with the Church, in the end the Church will always get it right. But in the end. The spirit of the Church is the meaning of love, which hasn't yet, perhaps, been fully understood.
See. That's how it's done. I love Sr. Wendy. And yet, I fear for her. You see, she's a Roman Catholic nun. Will this sort of comment go unnoticed by the powers?
UPDATE: Thanks to my faithful stringer, Lapin, for the tip.
Sister Wendy is the most adorable old lady on the face of the planet (see photo). She's also a nun. And not just any nun! She's a Consecrated Virgin nun. (Not that I know what that means, but it sounds very important and most definitely deserving of Capital Letters.) She's also a genius art historian who graduated from Oxford and has this video series through BBC and PBS ["Sister Wendy's Story of Painting"] in which she goes to museums and talks about art. She's written a few books, but her most recent (and the reason for her visit) is "Sister Wendy on Prayer". Oh, and did I mention she's taken a vow of solitude?
Why do I believe this young interviewer is not serious? She had not read the book, and the author called her on that.
Von Pfetten: Well... I haven't actually read the book. But I like the idea!
Sr. Wendy: Dear me, I wish you'd read the book. Then you could ask me why I said something or other on page 97 and how page 32 really speaks to you.
But - and it's a very big BUT - she asked Sr. Wendy a brilliant question. I'll give her due credit for that.
Von Pfetten: You've spoken out about gay marriage. How do you balance what you believe with what you have sworn to uphold?
Sr. Wendy: I believe in loyalty. We should respect our church, but never believe that the church has the last word. The church is saying "this", but I believe that sooner or later "this" will change. "This" is not the mind of our Lord. God is all love. It's a delicate balancing thing. The Church has changed it's position over the years, and because the spirit is with the Church, in the end the Church will always get it right. But in the end. The spirit of the Church is the meaning of love, which hasn't yet, perhaps, been fully understood.
See. That's how it's done. I love Sr. Wendy. And yet, I fear for her. You see, she's a Roman Catholic nun. Will this sort of comment go unnoticed by the powers?
UPDATE: Thanks to my faithful stringer, Lapin, for the tip.
Way Down Yonder - Part 2
Photo by Jennifer Zdon from NOLA.Com.
From Dennis in the comments to my first Way Down Yonder post:
Dennis said...
when I was a little kid in Jackson MS back in the 70s my grandmother would take us down by train to New Orleans every December. We would do our shopping at DH Holmes (I would get a new DH Holmes blue blazer each year, plus other stuff) and then it was off to Galatoires. An odd Christmas tradition.
So today was a cold Puget Sound day but I was thinking how it didn't feel like Christmas and that got me thinking about New Orleans and DH Holmes and Galatoires.
And then I find out that you were there today.
Mimi when we do the second OCICBW... gathering in New Orleans we are going to have to do a trip to Galatoires.
All right, Dennis, you made me cry. That's how soppy sentimental I am about New Orleans. When I read the comment I recalled the glory days of Canal Street, when it was an elegant shopping street. Yes, folks came by train and by car to shop there with the locals. As Ormonde said in the comments, they even came by taxi from Thibodaux! The men wore suits and ties, and the ladies and children dressed in their best, which included hats and gloves for the ladies.
And just picturing how adorable Dennis must have looked in his little blue blazer is enough to make an old lady cry. There he is, a proper and well-behaved child, dining with his grandmother in the wonderful Galatoire's. The restaurant is associated with a number of traditions and is quite as rigid in upholding them as the Anglican reasserters with their "Faith Handed Down".
And then I find out that you were there today. It's karma, Dennis.
Galatoire's is still alive and well. We ate there a couple of years ago. The old D. H. Holmes building is now a Royal Sonesta Hotel. The facade is intact, including the clock under which many would meet their friends and relatives to go shopping. The word was, "Meet me under the clock at Holmes." A life-sized statue of Ignatius J. Reilly now stands under the clock. I have quite a story about the clock, but I'll leave that for another post.
The Holmes department store gave me one of my first jobs at the age of 16, as a sales girl in the Men's Furnishings Department, as they called it. The powers wouldn't let me sell suits, because that job required skills which I did not possess. And, then, of course, there was the measuring.
I sold lots of men's underwear, which was a tad embarrassing for this 16 year old teenager. I imagine that it was embarrassing for the men, too, although it's possible that a few loved the idea of buying their underwear from a young teenage girl. I remember a few smiles and humorous comments.
But, I digress.
Once we reached New Orleans, we headed for lunch at a small Italian restaurant, La Vita, which is near the New Orleans Museum of Art, where the Native American exhibit was on view. The restaurant was closed, even though, according to the sign on the door, it should have been open. We don't know if something went wrong yesterday or if the restaurant is gone for good. We couldn't decide where we wanted to eat, and while discussing it, we continued down Esplanade Avenue until we were outside the French Quarter. We decided that we would eat in the Quarter and go to the gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum afterwards.
Once we'd parked, the first restaurant we came to that looked inviting was The Court of Two Sisters, which was serving a jazz brunch buffet. We sat outside in the chilly courtyard, so we could hear the jazz combo, a clarinet and a banjo, while we ate. I quickly ordered my medicinal red wine to warm me up, and when that one was finished, I ordered another to stay warm. The food was delicious, just excellent. The most memorable dishes, to me, were pasta crawfish salad, salmon salad, duck à l'orange, sweet potatoes, bananas Foster, and whiskey bread pudding. However, all the food was good.
As we headed out of the restaurant, I found I was a bit tipsy from the two glasses of wine. That, plus my age, plus the uneven sidewalks in the Quarter are a recipe for a fall. Didn't I say somewhere that I was living dangerously at my advanced age of three score and ten, plus three years? My beloved sister, Gayle, broke her foot in the Quarter. I don't know if she was tipsy or not, but knowing her, she could have been. Fortunately, I did not take a spill.
We trekked on down several blocks away to see the gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum. The plate pictured is included in the collection. The details of the exhibit, including pictures are available at the website of the Louisiana State Museum. The exhibit was excellent, and included a good bit of the history of gold-mining. One item, which is not pictured, that I found intriguing was a gold penis cover from Peru. It was not similar in any manner to a codpiece but was shaped like a small trumpet, with the narrow end closed and pointing outward.
The exhibit included a scale on which you could weigh yourself and see the results in your weight in gold at today's prices. I'm worth $1,583,388, if you'd like to buy me.
The French Quarter was rather empty, more as I remember it from long ago, when all the tourists were not crowding the streets. That's the way I like it, but I know the restaurants, the merchants, the artists, the street musicians, and the tarot card readers are hurting. I have my problems with the street tarot card readers, and the artists do, too, as they share space. Street tarot card readers are relatively new to the Quarter and not really part of the long-time tradition.
All things considered, (which we listened to on the way home) it was a lovely day.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Way Down Yonder
Today, I won't be around much. We're heading:
Way down yonder in New Orleans
In the land of the dreamy scenes
There's a garden of Eden...you know what I mean
We're going to a museum - perhaps to a Native American exhibit at the New Orleans Museum of Art, or perhaps to a gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum - Grandpère's choice. Then we'll eat a delicious lunch somewhere at an undisclosed and, as yet, undecided location. The fans, you know.
Y'all have a good day, and be good while I'm gone.
Way down yonder in New Orleans
In the land of the dreamy scenes
There's a garden of Eden...you know what I mean
We're going to a museum - perhaps to a Native American exhibit at the New Orleans Museum of Art, or perhaps to a gold exhibit at the Louisiana State Museum - Grandpère's choice. Then we'll eat a delicious lunch somewhere at an undisclosed and, as yet, undecided location. The fans, you know.
Y'all have a good day, and be good while I'm gone.
A Goddess By Any Other Name....
Allison Hantschel, aka as Athenae, (thus the goddess in the title of the post) at First Draft blog and I worked together with a group of bloggers - the First Draft Krewe - from different parts of the country, gutting a house in the Gentilly area in New Orleans. She is as smart and funny in person as she is on the blog, and she's quite attractive, too. While we were in New Orleans, it was not all work. We played a bit, too.
One gracious couple from the city invited us to their home for a crawfish boil. Allison arrived wearing - WAIT! - a smart black dress. That was the only time IN MY WHOLE LIFE - and you know I am old - that I have ever seen a woman arrive at a crawfish boil wearing a smart black dress. When you peel the hard shell off the crawfish the juice inside often goes SPLAT! - on your own clothes, on the clothes of the person across from you, or even on a person a good distance away from you. If you go into a restaurant to eat boiled crawfish, a member of the staff will give you a large bib to tie around your neck. I'm ashamed to say that I teased poor Allison unmercifully about her smart, black dress at the crawfish boil.
She can do a rant about the members of the Bush maladministration like no one else I know. In addition to her work on the blog, she is a published writer. She has published books, and she writes columns for the South Town Star in Chicago. In her latest article she talks about her unease with the religious litmus tests that candidates for public office are called upon to pass in these crazy days. I share Allison's unease.
Tim Russert asks about the candidates' favorite Bible verse. A questioner from the audience holds up a Bible and asks if the candidate believes every word in the book. Mitt Romney plans to give a speech on the effect that his Mormon faith will have on his presidency, should he be elected. How did we get to this place in our politics?
Allison says:
The interjection of religion into politics has never, in the history of the world, ended well for any populace that tried it; one has only to have a cursory knowledge of the Crusades to realize that. And just because it's become customary for presidential wannabes to venerate Christianity doesn't mean it should be comfortable.
Amen to that!
In the first place, if a president wishes to demonstrate faith, there are thousands of ways to do so other than with his mouth, into a microphone. He can do so, as former President Jimmy Carter has, with his hands and a hammer, building homes for the poor. He can do so, as Franklin Roosevelt did, with his work, lifting the country out of economic despair.
Really, though, it's irrelevant. We are not electing a national priest, nor, thank whatever gods exist, a national parent responsible for teaching us in the ways of his or her ancestors.
The words attributed to St. Francis of Assisi come to mind, "Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary." If you are a Christian candidate or a Mormon Candidate, don't blather on about it. Show us by the way you live your life how your faith will help make you a good president for all of the people, but especially for the least among us.
Allison asks what Bush's Christianity counts for in the disaster that is Iraq. What does his Christianity matter to those who were abandoned after Katrina?
She's right. We're electing a president, not a "national priest".
One gracious couple from the city invited us to their home for a crawfish boil. Allison arrived wearing - WAIT! - a smart black dress. That was the only time IN MY WHOLE LIFE - and you know I am old - that I have ever seen a woman arrive at a crawfish boil wearing a smart black dress. When you peel the hard shell off the crawfish the juice inside often goes SPLAT! - on your own clothes, on the clothes of the person across from you, or even on a person a good distance away from you. If you go into a restaurant to eat boiled crawfish, a member of the staff will give you a large bib to tie around your neck. I'm ashamed to say that I teased poor Allison unmercifully about her smart, black dress at the crawfish boil.
She can do a rant about the members of the Bush maladministration like no one else I know. In addition to her work on the blog, she is a published writer. She has published books, and she writes columns for the South Town Star in Chicago. In her latest article she talks about her unease with the religious litmus tests that candidates for public office are called upon to pass in these crazy days. I share Allison's unease.
Tim Russert asks about the candidates' favorite Bible verse. A questioner from the audience holds up a Bible and asks if the candidate believes every word in the book. Mitt Romney plans to give a speech on the effect that his Mormon faith will have on his presidency, should he be elected. How did we get to this place in our politics?
Allison says:
The interjection of religion into politics has never, in the history of the world, ended well for any populace that tried it; one has only to have a cursory knowledge of the Crusades to realize that. And just because it's become customary for presidential wannabes to venerate Christianity doesn't mean it should be comfortable.
Amen to that!
In the first place, if a president wishes to demonstrate faith, there are thousands of ways to do so other than with his mouth, into a microphone. He can do so, as former President Jimmy Carter has, with his hands and a hammer, building homes for the poor. He can do so, as Franklin Roosevelt did, with his work, lifting the country out of economic despair.
Really, though, it's irrelevant. We are not electing a national priest, nor, thank whatever gods exist, a national parent responsible for teaching us in the ways of his or her ancestors.
The words attributed to St. Francis of Assisi come to mind, "Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary." If you are a Christian candidate or a Mormon Candidate, don't blather on about it. Show us by the way you live your life how your faith will help make you a good president for all of the people, but especially for the least among us.
Allison asks what Bush's Christianity counts for in the disaster that is Iraq. What does his Christianity matter to those who were abandoned after Katrina?
She's right. We're electing a president, not a "national priest".
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
"From Darkness To Light" At Wenchoster
I've received word from my correspondent in the Diocese of Wenchoster that a supplement to the Advent Pharisaios Journal is now up on the website, and it includes pictures of their lovely "From Darkness to Light" procession.
As lagniappe, they've included a hymn, "The Season's Come". Here's the first verse:
The season’s come, the hymns are sung,
The weather we endure.
A question’s raised by old and young:
What is an harbinger?
You can find the other verses at the site.
If you don't know what the word "lagniappe" means, then visit Google and find out, because I'll be using it again.
Feast Day of St. Clement Of Alexandria
Image from Wiki.
The Advent calendar from the Diocese of Washington, DC, includes in it's meditation for the day a prayer-poem by St. Clement. The link to the calendar is posted at the top left of this page. Click on day 5. Here's an excerpt:
Bridle of colts untamed,
Over our will presiding;
Wing of unwandering birds,
Our flight securely guiding.
Rudder of youth unbending,
Firm against adverse shock;
Shepherd, with wisdom tending
Lambs of the royal flock;
Thy simple children bring
In one, that they may sing
In solemn lays
Their hymns of praise
With guileless lips to Christ the King.
Read the rest. It's quite beautiful.
Padre Mickey, as usual, has a wonderful post on St. Clement. I may have to begin charging El Padre ad fees for the publicity I give him about his posts on the early saints.
READINGS:
Psalm 34:9-14 or 103:1-4,13-18
Colossians 1:11-20
John 6:57-63
PRAYER
O Lord, who called your servant Clement of Alexandria from the errors of ancient philosophy that he might learn and teach the saving Gospel of Christ: Turn your Church from the conceits of worldly wisdom and, by the Spirit of truth, guide it into all truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Saddest Places In the UK
From the Heywood Advertizer:
The places listed below are the 10 saddest in all England.
1. Middlesbrough £7.58
2. Gateshead, Tyne & Wear £7.29
3. Redcar & Cleveland £7.11
4. Newcastle £7.04
5. Suffolk £6.90
6. North Tyneside £6.81
7. Heywood, Middleton, Rochdale £6.73
8=Blackpool £6.71
8=Hastings & Rother £6.71
10. Norfolk £6.64
The money is the amount spent on antidepressants per person, each year.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
"The Tiber Runs Through Boston"
From Commonweal Magazine, by David Gibson.
It seems that former Episcopal bishop Jeffery Steenson was received into the Roman Catholic Church last weekend by Cardinal Bernard Law at the Basilica of Saint Mary Major in Rome.
You remember Cardinal Law, don't you? He was the archbishop and cardinal of the Archdiocese of Boston, who presided over a horrendous cover-up of child abuse that was in operation for many years. His punishment? Banishment to a position as archpriest of a basilica in Rome.
I wonder if Cardinal Law was Steenson's choice or was he imposed upon him? Could he have said, "No thanks. May I have someone else to do the job?"
The headline is a quote from the online article in Commonweal.
It seems that former Episcopal bishop Jeffery Steenson was received into the Roman Catholic Church last weekend by Cardinal Bernard Law at the Basilica of Saint Mary Major in Rome.
You remember Cardinal Law, don't you? He was the archbishop and cardinal of the Archdiocese of Boston, who presided over a horrendous cover-up of child abuse that was in operation for many years. His punishment? Banishment to a position as archpriest of a basilica in Rome.
I wonder if Cardinal Law was Steenson's choice or was he imposed upon him? Could he have said, "No thanks. May I have someone else to do the job?"
The headline is a quote from the online article in Commonweal.
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