FURTHER PRAYER REQUEST...

From Tim Chesterton:

Further to my prayer request for Joe Walker and his family here, please keep them especially in your prayers tonight. They are down east with Joe’s parents, and the end may be close for Joe. Thank you.

Tim blogs at Faith, Folk and Charity.

Update from Tim Chesterton:

Half an hour ago I learned the news that my dear friend Joe Walker died early this morning after a short and increasingly painful battle with cancer.

Read the rest at Tim's blog Faith, Folk and Charity.

May Joe rest in peace and rise in glory. May God give comfort, consolation and the peace that passes understanding to Joe's wife Alisa, to their children Emily, Adam, Sarah Joy, and Justin and to all who love Joe.

SICK AT HEART - THE RIOTS IN ENGLAND

The riots, violence, looting, and destruction in London and other cities in England, a country that I love, makes me sick at heart, especially since I was there as recently as the end of last month. There is no excuse, repeat, no excuse, for citizens to take the path of violence and destruction to effect change in their societies. But when we ask why such violence and destruction take place, we must note that at least some of the participants are probably those who have little or no hope of ever having a reasonable stake in the societies in which they live. They are less likely to care greatly about the disorder and destruction and more prone to get caught up in the mob and actually become partners in the destruction of the very communities in which they live.

By no means do I rule out the presence of the criminal element, who, no doubt, take every advantage of the chaos to profit from it, but the rioters probably include 'people of no hope', people who see around them the rich prospering in the greed-is-good mentality of untrammeled capitalism, even as they are left behind. Is it really surprising that some of the 'no-hopers' get caught up in the mob mentality of the riots?

My words could apply to other countries in the West, including my own, where the ever-widening gap between rich and poor and the erosion of the middle class continues apace and will lead us nowhere good.

O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Book of Common Prayer

UPDATE: Bishop Alan Wilson of Buckingham and Counterlight both posted reflections on the rioting in in England which I think are worth a read.

THE ENGLISH LADIES AND MY BLOG COMMUNITY

If I've told this story already, please let me know. I've told it verbally to a good many people, but I don't believe I've written the story on my blog. On my trip to England, I flew into Manchester Airport, and, since I was going to London for the first leg of my trip, I had to take the train south. When I purchased my ticket, the agent told me I'd have to take the train to Newcastle first. I said, "To Newcastle?!" and the agent said yes. All right, then.

I caught the train for Newcastle and sat next to two English ladies from Chester le Street, and we began to talk. I told them I didn't understand why I had to go north to Newcastle, in order to get south to London. They looked at the slip of paper that came with my ticket, and one woman said, 'Oh no! You get off this train at the next stop, at the Manchester Piccadilly Station, and then catch a train to London.' I thanked them profusely for saving me a long, out-of-the-way ride, because I would have stayed on the train all the way to Newcastle.

They knew from my accent that I was from the US, and they asked me where I was going in England. I said London first, then the West Country, then up North to Leeds and Newcastle. And one woman said, 'All alone?' I said no, that I had friends all over England. And she said, 'How did you come to meet so many English friends?'

Long pause. Finally, in a weak voice, I said, 'I met them online.' Their eyes grew wide, and I could see the wheels turning. 'Is this old woman madly active in online dating services?' I started to explain about blogs and blog communities, and then it was time for me to get off the train. They helped me with my luggage, and they were gone before I had time to give them a fuller explanation. Even if I'd had time to say more, I wonder if the ladies would have understood.

I marvel myself at all the wonderful people I've met through the blog community, and I have no doubt that we are a community, because we care about one another and for one another. We pray for each other, laugh together, cry together, mourn together, and rejoice together. Although in my offline life, I have many relationships and much to occupy me, I would not, for the world, have missed my connections with you, my blog community. You have been a grace and a blessing to me. You have enriched my life in ways far beyond what you will ever know or realize. I thank God for you, and I thank you for coming into my life.

A LUNCH, A LUNCH, A DINNER, AND A DINNER

Here it is! My People Magazine style post in which I show off the beautiful and very important celebrity people I met in England.

LUNCH 1

The first three photos, except Laura's, were taken at The New Inn in Salisbury earlier in the day in which we visited Salisbury Cathedral and heard the choir from St Mark's Episcopal Church in Berkeley, California, sing Evensong. Our friend susan s. is a member, and the choir sang beautifully at the service.

 

Tah-dah! Our own susan s.!

And what a joy it was to meet susan after conversing with her for years and years on the internet. She was just as I expected, only taller, but just as smart, sassy, and witty as she is online. And look at that fast-moving hand! The cameracouldn't keep up. 

Laura, pictured above, of the blog Lay Anglicana arranged for the luncheon at The New Inn and she and her husband Robert, pictured below, kindly treated us all to lunch. Laura is another humble lay person, who is firmly opposed to the Anglican Covenant, and dares to speak out against the document. What a breath of fresh air she was when she appeared on the blogging scene. Let no one say, 'What do lay folks know? They should fill the collection plates, fill the pews, and otherwise stay quiet.' I have news for them. We know a lot more than you think we know.

 

Above, Laura's charming and gentlemanly husband, Robert, listens patiently to me as I rattle on. Robert is not part of the blogging scene but is nevertheless an excellent luncheon companion and an attentive listener. He seemed quite interested in my responses to his intelligent and informed questions about life in south Louisiana. We also chatted a bit about the Anglican and Episcopal Churches.

LUNCH 2

 

Me (laughing hysterically) and the newlyweds, Alan and Lesley Fellowes Crawley.

Lesley blogs at (Surprise!) Lesley's Blog, and she sometimes pemits Alan to write a word or two on her blog. The two love birds make a beautiful couple. How grand to meet them. They were on their way home from Alan's daughter's graduation, and they generously made time for a long lunch with Erika, Cathy, and me. Cathy is cropped out of the pictures by her own request.

 

Me, Alan, and Erika.

Alan was outnumbered 4 to 1, by women, but we were kind enough to let him get in a word or two edgewise from time to time. I gave Lesley a bit of advice on training husbands and cautioned her that it is the work of a lifetime. After 50 years, Grandpère still will not heel.

Lesley's and Alan's photos do not do them justice. Both are quite good-looking, but the camera does not come close to doing justice to their fine appearance. On a side note, I like the picture above of me better than any taken in recent memory. Thank you, Lesley.

I sometimes wondered if Cathy was bored with all our church talk, since she's not so caught up in Anglican/Episcopal affairs as the rest of us. Hardly anyone is, except we mad few. She said no, but perhaps she was just being polite.

DINNER 1

 

Bishop Alan Wilson and me.

Alan, the Bishop of Buckingham, blogs at (Surprise again!) Bishop Alan's Blog. See how the heavenly light shines down on me when I sit near a bishop. God approves. MadPriest says I never shut up, but I can tell you that Alan gave me a good run. He's no slacker in the talk department, but he's great fun and a fine dinner companion. Also, he's a bishop who is a breath of fresh air, as those of you who read Alan's blog or follow him on Facebook already know.

 

The lovely Susan, Erika's beloved, and the lovely Rosie Harper are pictured above. Rosie is vicar of Great Missenden and chaplain to the bishop of Buckingham. What are the duties of a chaplain to the bishop? I expect one of them is to tell him what to do. Rosie also serves as a member of General Synod of the Church of England and, along with Alan, writes for the Guardian's 'Comment Is Free' feature. Last I heard Rosie was on holiday in the south of France.

Erika, Alan, and Rosie arranged the dinner at the Eagle Tavern in Little Coxwell, which was approximately half way between Erika and Susan's home and where Alan and Rosie live. Rosie and Alan were mystery personages to Cathy and me until we arrived at the pub. What a pleasant surprise when we found out their identities.

Dinner 2

 

Tracy Terry, who blogs as Petty Witter at Pen and Paper, and me. We had dinner at Marco Polo in Newcastle Upon Tyne, where we dined on tasty Italian dishes. Others at table were Neal, Tracy's beloved, who blogs as Themethatisme at Conscientisation, Paul Bagshaw, who blogs under his own name at Not the Same Stream, Chris, and Jane and Jonathan Hagger, aka as MadPriest, who blogs at Of Course I Could Be Wrong. The bright celebrity lights were shining that night!

 

Flat Stanley and me, with Paul back there in the shadows with his wife Chris hiding behind his shoulder. Tracy takes Flat Stanley everywhere with her and photographs him at every opportunity. How cool that I had my picture taken with the famous Stanley.

A few of the folks at our dinner that evening are camera shy, but I forgot all about taking pictures that evening anyway. In fact, I didn't take many pictures of people in our gatherings during the trip, because I'm interested in talking and listening, and I tend to forget the camera.

Once again, there was a lot of church talk, and I'm quite sure that certain people at the table were bored silly. Those of us who are fascinated and enthralled by the church scene probably come off as a bit strange, and we should exercise more restraint in mixed company. Erika suggests that all dining tables that seat more than four people should be round, because, in that situation, everyone can talk to everyone else, and those who are not particularly interested in one conversation are free to talk to someone else. I agree.

My readers, I know this post is long, very long, and it may put your attention span to the test, but think of it as similar to an article in People Magazine, although it's probably longer than most People articles. And, all joking aside, please do not think of the post as a brag, for I take great pleasure in incarnational encounters with blog friends whom I've come to know online. I experience few surprises when I meet folks face to face, because nearly all of them turn out to be very much as I expected.

Whoops! Before I finish, I must drop three more celebrity names with - Alas! - no photos. I had a delightful lunch with Jonathan Clatworthy, of Modern Church, at Prezzo, an Italian restaurant near Euston Station in London, while he was between trains. Our lunch lasted nearly three hours. Then I had lunch with Chris Hansen at Balans Restaurant, which I'm told is the gayest restaurant in all London, (They almost didn't let me in!) which, once again, lasted for nearly three hours. And last, but surely not least, Simon Sarmiento, of Thinking Anglicans, generously took time out of his busy schedule to share coffee with me at a café near the South Kensington Underground station.

If I've left out any English celebrities, please let me know, and I will make the proper acknowledgment.

UPDATE: I knew I'd leave someone out. Renz reminded me that I'd left out Celebrity Jack, who blogs at Why Do We Have To Do This, Sir? Jack and I had coffee and supper at a café in Headingley, and we were joined later by his daughter Anna. I was deputized to give Jack hugs from a good many folks, so I rolled them all together and gave him one big hug from me and from everyone.

DAVID@MONTREAL ASKS FOR PRAYERS

dear Giants
in the generosity of your gracious hearts i'd ask prayers this morning for my cherished cousin Frank, his wife Carol and their family
Frank was re-admitted to hospital this past week-end: barely able to walk, yet incredibly he walked from the car into the emerg..
at first it was believed he had c-difficile again, but it is something new going on, along with MAC, a fungal infection in the lungs.
Carol called Mam late yesterday & it would appear that after a rather extraordinary life my dear cousin might be living through his very last days.

prayers also for his latest grandchildren please, born less than a week ago: Katherine and Charlotte- both still in the icu: Charlotte with kidney and oxygen level issues.

prayers for the people of Syria who continue to be assaulted daily by the madman who claims leadership of their country. one for the international students who worked for me at the university is apparently still in the country with her parents.

prayers for President Obama (enough said)

and prayers please for the several Giants, each in their own way undergoing serious trails or discernment at this time ( you know who you are).

thank-you beloved Giants

David@Montreal

David, I'm so sorry to hear the news about Frank. He and Carol fought the good fight for quite a long time. And now to have the little ones in ICU. Prayers for the entire family.

For Frank:

May God the Father bless you, God the Son heal you, God the Holy Spirit give you strength. May God the holy and undivided Trinity guard your body, save your soul, and bring you safely to his heavenly country; where he lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

For Charlotte and Katherine:

Lord Jesus Christ, Good Shepherd of the sheep, you gather the lambs in your arms and carry them in your bosom: We commend to your loving care these children, Katherine and Charlotte. Relieve their pain, guard them from all danger, restore to them your gifts of gladness and strength, and raise them up to a life of service to you. Hear us, we pray, for you dear Name’s sake. Amen.

For Carol and all who care for Frank:

Sanctify, O Lord, those whom you have called to care for Frank. Strengthen and comfort them by your life-giving Spirit, that by their ministries, Frank may be peaceful and without pain; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

GOOD HEAVENS!

Is this a joke? Apparently not. The toilet paper was designed by Renova especially for World Youth Day (WYD) in Madrid, where Pope Benedict will be present. The company suggests that the rolls be used as streamers.

Thanks to Ann.

PICTURE ESSAY OF ST MICHAEL'S CHURCH AND EAST COKER

East Coker was a special place for both Cathy and me, and since I had other photos which I thought worth posting, I did the picture essay as a companion piece to my earlier post.

Neither of my posts are quite what I wanted them to be, but they will have to do. Eliot does not find satisfaction in his poetic words, so who am I to complain if my poor efforts seem lacking to me?

 

St Michael's showing the clock

 

Baptismal font

St Michael's and scattered gravestones

 

The poetry bench and more gravestones

Stained glass window in St Michael's

And another

Cathy's beloved cows in the field next to the churchyard (Sorry I didn't do better by your cows, Cathy.)

 

Thatched cottage near the Helyar Arms

 

Planting behind the Helyar Arms

 

The dining room at the Helyar Arms

Since T. S. Eliot's poem played a great part in making our visit special, I leave you with another quote from 'East Coker':

That was a way of putting it—not very satisfactory:
A periphrastic study in a worn-out poetical fashion,
Leaving one still with the intolerable wrestle
With words and meanings. The poetry does not matter.
It was not (to start again) what one had expected.
What was to be the value of the long looked forward to,
Long hoped for calm, the autumnal serenity
And the wisdom of age? Had they deceived us
Or deceived themselves, the quiet-voiced elders,
Bequeathing us merely a receipt for deceit?
The serenity only a deliberate hebetude,
The wisdom only the knowledge of dead secrets
Useless in the darkness into which they peered
Or from which they turned their eyes. There is, it seems to us,
At best, only a limited value
In the knowledge derived from experience.
The knowledge imposes a pattern, and falsifies,
For the pattern is new in every moment
And every moment is a new and shocking
Valuation of all we have been. We are only undeceived
Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm.
In the middle, not only in the middle of the way
But all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,
On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,
And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,
Risking enchantment. Do not let me hear
Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly,
Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,
Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God.
The only wisdom we can hope to acquire
Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.

UPDATE: The church with the tower, which I had originally pictured, was not St Michael's Church. I corrected the post. Thanks to Lapin for calling my attention to the mistake.

EAST COKER AND ELIOT

Thatched cottage in East Coker

For our trip to the West Country of England, I put the planning entirely in Cathy's hands, and she did a fine job of it, especially in arranging for us to spend the latter part of a day and a night in East Coker, a charming village in South Somerset, with one lovely thatched cottage upon another, built of local Ham stone similar to what you see in the pictures above and below.

The three photos below are of the cottage garden.

 

 

 

How sad I was to read in the Guardian of possible plans to build a large housing estate which would quadruple the population of the village and occupy what is presently farm land.

Cathy and I stayed at the Helyar Arms, which was only a short walk from St Michael's church, pictured below. The B&B was quite comfortable, and we enjoyed a tasty dinner there after our poetic session in the churchyard. I ordered duck, which was very good, but I can't remember what Cathy ordered. I had yummy banana and butterscotch crème brûlée with lavender shortbread for dessert.

 

St Michael's Church, East Coker

Beautiful gate to the enclosed churchyard

My everlasting thanks to Cathy for taking along a copy of T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets, from which we read 'East Coker' as we sat on a bench in St Michael's churchyard. We thought we should read the poem aloud, but neither of us believed ourselves to be good readers of poetry, so we read the poem silently. Finally, I thought we should have at least part of the poem read aloud, so I plunged in and read the final stanza.

The view from the bench in the churchyard

The final words from 'East Coker'

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.
Old men ought to be explorers
Here or there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and the empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

Eliot's ashes rest in St Michael's church, and his spirit is present in the church and the surrounding land and village. Tears came to my eyes more than once as I wrote the post and looked at the pictures and reread the poem.

T. S. Eliot Memorial, St Michael's church

Photo of St Michael's from Wikipedia.

EDWIN EDWARDS BOUNCES BACK

From NOLA.com:

Moments after marrying for the third time, former Gov. Edwin Edwards did on Friday what comes so naturally: He stepped before the cameras.

With his 32-year-old bride, the former Trina Grimes Scott, close by his side in the Hotel Monteleone lobby, Edwards, who'll turn 84 on Aug. 7, tossed off quips, joshed with reporters and glad-handed hotel guests who seemed happily surprised to find themselves in the middle of the tangle of reporters, cameras and microphones.

The couple had just been united in marriage, in a 14th-floor suite, by state Supreme Court Chief Justice Catherine "Kitty" Kimball.

Of his bride's dress:

Her strapless, knee-length white dress was "Italian silk, with a Cajun twist," Edwards said.

The romance began while Edwards was in prison, with letters first and eventually with visits by Scott to Edwards in prison and finally a proposal of marriage.

I kissed Edwards once, you know, and it was all my fault. The filters in my brain completely malfunctioned. I've already told the tale here at Wounded Bird twice, but I'll quote myself to give you the story again.

Although Edwards was a crook and a notorious womanizer, there was something about him that I found endearing. (God help me!) Perhaps, it was because he was seldom hypocritical - a welcome relief in a politician.

He'd campaign in black churches and tell the congregation, "I don't drink, I don't smoke. Two out of three is not bad."

In fact, on one occasion when he arrived at a gathering at the university where my husband worked, there seemed to be no officials there to greet him. I was standing there with a group who may have resembled a receiving line, and he came right up to me.

That was one occasion when words came out of my mouth seemingly without passing through my brain, because I said to him, "Does a kiss from the governor come with the greeting?" Of course, he promptly kissed me on the cheek. Grandpère was standing next to me wide-eyed and astonished.

After Edwards moved on he said to me, "What did you think you were doing?" So. There you are. I'm in the company of an enormous number of women who have kissed Edwin Edwards.
October 8, 2007 12:19 PM

Edwards was twice tried and acquitted, but the law eventually caught up with him for his shenanigans on the third try when Edwards was 73 years. A good many of us thought the 10 year sentence was a bit harsh, but Edwards paid his debt to society and lived to tell the tale and make a new life for himself.

The ex-governor had charm, charisma, choose your word, but he was a rogue and a rascal who hustled the citizens of the State of Louisiana. Still, he never left Louisiana as damaged as the present governor, Bobby Jindal, will leave the state after 4 and probably 8 years of slash and burn governance. I'd swap Edwards for Jindal in a heartbeat.

ALL TOO TRUE!

The photo of the billboard above is all over the internet, but Lapin sent it to me, so I may as well have it, too.