Last night I dreamed that a priest named Jonathan flew over the ocean from England in an airplane, made his way to Thibodaux on his own, and met me at Nicholls State University here in town. Jonathan looked nothing like the other English Jonathan whom I know. He was much shorter, about my height (5'7"), had a thick mane of wavy, carrot-colored hair, not a blazing carrot color, but a quiet carrot shade, wore metal-framed glasses, and was of stocky build.
I ooohed and aaahed and said, "You did it! And all your own!" His wife did not make the trip. We chatted for a bit, and then I asked Jonathan what he would like to do first. We decided to have a meal at one of the campus eateries. For some reason, we had to go our separate ways briefly, intending to meet again shortly to eat. Our mistake was not to settle on which cafeteria or café on the campus we would meet. I spent the rest of the dream wandering from one eatery to another on the campus and never finding Jonathan. End of dream.
Oh, that I were Adrian Worsfold and could draw a picture of the dream Jonathan. I've been asked whether I dream in color, but I could never answer because I couldn't remember if I did nor not. Now I know. The image of the dream Jonathan remains quite vivid today, and, for some strange reason, I'd like to draw the man and see the picture before me. Why is it that certain dream images have such an impact?
When I met the other Jonathan, MadPriest, he did not seem so very mad to me, hardly mad at all.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
O Clavis David
December 20
O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel;
qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit:
veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris, et umbra mortis.
O Key of David, and Sceptre of the house of Israel,
that openeth and no man shutteth, and shutteth and no man openeth,
come to liberate the prisoner from the prison, and them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death.
Isaiah 22:22
I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David;
he shall open, and no one shall shut;
he shall shut, and no one shall open.
Antiphon sung by the Dominican student brothers at Oxford.
Text from Fish Eaters.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
"Joys Seven"
The carol "Joys Seven" sung by the Choir of King's College, Cambridge.
Yes, it's a carol before Christmas Eve. So sue me.
Inspired by Rmj at Adventus, who posted the words to the carol.
Update On Sammy Cat
Dear Mimi,
Please convey my heartfelt thanks to all who have been praying for Sammy Cat and me. After Sammy's ultrasound I had a consult with the radiologist and internist. Both doctors agreed that Sammy either has inflammatory bowel disease or gastrointestinal lymphoma. Both felt that IBD was more likely given her age and general health. Sam would have to have an endoscopy and biopsy for a definite diagnosis. We are not out of the woods yet, but are going ahead with a totally new diet and some additional blood tests. If IBD is the issue we may be able to control it with diet and some medication. Keep on praying!
God bless all of my friends in Blog Land!
Whiteycat
Please convey my heartfelt thanks to all who have been praying for Sammy Cat and me. After Sammy's ultrasound I had a consult with the radiologist and internist. Both doctors agreed that Sammy either has inflammatory bowel disease or gastrointestinal lymphoma. Both felt that IBD was more likely given her age and general health. Sam would have to have an endoscopy and biopsy for a definite diagnosis. We are not out of the woods yet, but are going ahead with a totally new diet and some additional blood tests. If IBD is the issue we may be able to control it with diet and some medication. Keep on praying!
God bless all of my friends in Blog Land!
Whiteycat
Ouch!
Check out Jim Naughton's thoughts on the consequences of not signing the Covenant at The Lead. The beginning:
From the final Paragraph:
Do read the entire post.
A few stray thoughts on the Anglican Covenant and the recent meeting of the Central Committee of the Anglican Communion (I can't bring myself to accept the power-grab-by-name- change that Rowan Williams has affected by calling this thing a Standing Committee, so I am using another name).
From the final Paragraph:
Finally, I think we need to stop thinking of Rowan Williams as a gentle, scholarly soul caught between warring parties, doing his best to make peace.
Do read the entire post.
CHRISTMAS AT ROCK-AWAY REST
'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away Rest,
and all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.
Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.
The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.
Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"
Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.
Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).
A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.
We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social- security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.
And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
'fore long you'll be with us, We wish you the best!
Don't blame me. Blame Robert.
and all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.
A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.
Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.
The bed pans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.
Our salad was Jell-O, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"
Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wand'rer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.
Security lights on the new fallen snow
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter).
A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red.
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.
We knew from the way that he strutted and jived
Our social- security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft eight-p.m. stroke.
And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds.
While nurses distributed nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away Rest.
'fore long you'll be with us, We wish you the best!
Don't blame me. Blame Robert.
Story Of The Day - Flight
I knew a man in college who grew up in
the inner city of Chicago & what he was
doing in Iowa I never did figure out. But
whenever he would see a jet trailing
across the sky, he would stop everything
he was doing & he would watch. Once,
after a jet was gone & there was nothing
left but the white line disappearing like
a scar into the blue, he turned to me &
said, An airplane is a miracle & I didn't
give it much thought, but now & then,
when I am ready to give up hope for
human beings in general, & for one or
two of them who are bugging me
specifically, I will look to the sky & there
will be one of those miracles & I will
remember it's all about concentrating
on the right thing.
From StoryPeople.
the inner city of Chicago & what he was
doing in Iowa I never did figure out. But
whenever he would see a jet trailing
across the sky, he would stop everything
he was doing & he would watch. Once,
after a jet was gone & there was nothing
left but the white line disappearing like
a scar into the blue, he turned to me &
said, An airplane is a miracle & I didn't
give it much thought, but now & then,
when I am ready to give up hope for
human beings in general, & for one or
two of them who are bugging me
specifically, I will look to the sky & there
will be one of those miracles & I will
remember it's all about concentrating
on the right thing.
From StoryPeople.
Louisiana Is First In Something Good!
From USA today:
A CDC released a four-year, 1.3 million-person study on happiness: Apparently the happiest Americans are in Louisiana, while the Empire State (N.Y.) is leaving people least satisfied.
....
If you compare the ranking of happiest states to the 2008 American Religious Identification Survey, is it interesting that New York has almost double the people who report "no religion" as Louisiana (14% vs. 8%)? Or not, since Florida, which ranked third in happiness, tied with New York for "Nones"?
The list is here.
Ranking No. 1 in happiness was Louisiana, home of Dixieland music and Cajun/Creole cooking.
Now I understand why I'm always ecstatic! The music and the food surely don't hurt. Check for religion. I'd have thought the percentage of folks who claim to be religious would be higher in Louisiana, but perhaps I misjudge the numbers of young people who are dropping out.
What a surprise! Louisiana usually ranks at the bottom in good qualities and at the top in worst qualities.
Thanks to Ann, and I read the good news in the paper yesterday.
O Radix Jesse
Antiphon sung by the Dominican student brothers at Blackfriars in Oxford.
December 19
O Radix Jesse, qui stas in signum populorum,
super quem continebunt reges os suum,
quem Gentes deprecabuntur:
veni ad liberandum nos, jam noli tardare.
O Root of Jesse, which standest for an ensign of the people,
at Whom the kings shall shut their mouths,
Whom the Gentiles shall seek,
come to deliver us, do not tarry.
Isaiah 11:1, 11:10
A shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
....
On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.
Text from Fish Eaters.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Voila! Section 4 of the Anglican Covenant!
See the text of Section 4 at The Lead.
See above the Archbishop of Canterbury's Advent gift in the form of a video in which he flogs the dead horse named Anglican Covenant.
See my comment:
"Each Church adopting this Covenant affirms that it enters into the Covenant as a commitment to relationship in submission to God."
Signing the Covenant is a submission to God? God wants this Covenant? Or am I misreading?
Words that jump out at me: "monitor", "consequences", "suspension", "incompatible with the Covenant" - words that bring to mind disciplinary procedures which will apply to the signees, despite the ABC's averral that the Covenant will not be a "penal code", nor will it have to do with punishment.
This final part of the Covenant makes me queasy. I don't like it. Of course, I never liked the idea of the Covenant at all, because I believed that the members of the AC pushing for the Covenant had discipline in mind from the beginning. I see the ABC as flogging a dead horse.
Is it possible to offer as an alternative to this odious Covenant, the Baptismal Covenant from the Episcopal BCP for the members of the AC to sign?
June Butler
See the other comments at The Lead.
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