What Does the 1960 Kenner "Give-A-Show" Projector Have to Do with Cosmic Battle with Evil?

The first Advent liturgy of my parish was celebrated at 4pm on Saturday. The church was especially packed. I processed in with the first candle for the Advent wreath and as I made my way back to my seat I noticed that there were so many people there. This caused me to add more hosts to the offertory paten after mass began, which was a good thing.

We have lovely music at my parish. The church is not that pretty, is is a big box of a thing, designed in the late 70's and then renovated in the 80's. I am told that the architect built car dealerships and banks; this does not surprise me and is likely true.

Anyway, the music was beautiful and the church was pretty full. I would guess that there were 700 people there, give or take.

Just before liturgy began, Father Pat gave me a vintage toy box and asked me to put it near his chair on the altar... I had a feeling that a good homily was ahead and I was right.

Father Pat began with a rhetorical question - "Do you believe that God is engaged in a cosmic battle for with evil?"

He went on to discuss that that kind of thinking sells a lot of movie tickets and book sales and fuels a lot of fear-based actions, but that it is not good theology and is certainly not Roman Catholic theology.

God is God. Period. God created everything, God is God, God is good, God created all.

Now we as humans are always engaged with some inner evil or the perception of such - this we all know.

He went over to the Kenner Give-A-Show box and pulled out a ViewMaster and asked if we were familiar with this. He asked if anyone had one and some kid must have raised his hand, I could not see from where I sat. He asked the kid if he was brave and the kid must have said yes, and next thing you know, Jack, aged 5, is up there on the altar too. He was adorable and precocious.  They had a nice chat about what you could see on the ViewMaster!

Pat went on to tell us a story about his childhood. Christmas 1960, when he was 7. He and his sister Sharon woke up at 5am and slid down the stairs (if they walked, the stairs would squeak and give them away) in the dark of Christmas morning. They made their way to the tree, awash in gifts. Clothing gifts were wrapped, but toys were unwrapped. He and Sharon found the "Give A Show" and snuck it into the bathroom, but still couldn't turn on the light as Grandmother's room was right there.

With nothing but the light from the Troy, NY streetlamp, they opened the box and tried to figure out what this plastic thing was. He asked young Jack and Jack said it was a gun! It does look a little that way.

It came will film strips so Pat thought it was a ViewMaster thing; he and Sharon stared down the barrel trying to see the images, all 112 of them. It gave them a headache.

You see - unlike the viewmaster in which you stare into it, the Give-A-Show projected an image out. This was not discovered until Pat and Sharon both had bad headaches from trying to focus on Kenner images of Mighty Mouse! (am I the only person who thought of Andy Kaufman at the mention of Mighty Mouse?)

So dear blog readers, you may wonder, does this have to do with Advent?

We tend to do things as they have always been done, said Fr. Pat. Like looking into the tube, rather than looking up at the ceiling to see what is projected. Narrow view and big view.

We often have to discover that they way we *thought* things worked are not that all.

And that the apocalyptic nature of the Cycle C readings that we begin today are not just gloom and doom, good and evil. Calamities and disasters are not always what they seem, especially when we consider the enormity of the impact of a God that is all good.

God calls us into being, God calls us to live.

Calamities and disasters can be viewed through a larger lens, projected onto the sky - they are scary (back to Fr. Pat) unless you consider the presence of the loving God who has called you forth and the loving God about to send his son into the world.

We cannot focus on the small lens of our own little fear, but rather must gaze upon the whole sense of time in ways that our own limited temporal and spatial understanding can't quite grasp.

That is the transcendent. That is Advent. That is Christ. That is God. That is love.

What cosmic battle of good and evil can trump that?

Amen and amen and amen.

(and you wonder why I stay? can you not see how I am fed at this table, fed so bountifully and richly. sleeping on this homily helped me to heal some of the pain of yesterday's rant and my late night FB ranty-status-update. that - and your companionship, your prayers and your wisdom. thank you.)

Slouching Towards Bethlehem and Other Advent Inpsired Thoughts (sub-title - she is ranting again.)

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Oh my. Advent is here.

And it has been a shitty week for the Catholic Church. No - I don't write that to elicit your sympathy. Nor do I write it inspire your outrage. Certainly I don't write it for you to tell me that as Catholics go, I am pretty reasonable.

I do not feel reasonable today and not for the reasons you might think.

The center will not hold.  What IS slouching towards Bethlehem waiting to be born? I am reminded not only of the words of this poem, but also of the lyrics to U2's "Yawheh," which remind us "always pain before the child is born."

As for the shitty Roman Catholic church week, I must say that I *feel* like whatever I say will be misread or misinterpreted or considered defensive or whatever. That in no way defends the totally shitty (oh that word again - hate to use it but it so *works*) things that happened this week (or any other week) in the Roman Catholic Church.

As ever, I am tempted to not stay on the side of yay or nay.  There is more yay than you might imagine when I think of the Church as the place I work and worship.

My "work" parish is in the process of helping a few hundred, give or take, families for the holidays. This means providing the means for Thanksgiving and Christmas meals along with gifts for Christmas.  A good number of elderly and homebound people received Thanksgiving meals that were made up and delivered with great love.

My worship parish is in the midst of providing gifts for families in need and for the elderly without other resources. Thanksgiving was made at church for people who needed somewhere to go.

Probably the biggest thing going on at church however has been the "adoption" of a displaced family from Eritrea. They were living in a refugee camp in their own country for awhile and then got on a plane for the first time in their lives, flew halfway across the world on more than one plane and finally made it here. To say that they are in a strange land would be an understatement!

Their apartment has been furnished by people at my parish, they have been given food and other items and the biggest task is to see that they get visited regularly. They speak Tigrinya, a language that only one man in Albany speaks. He has helped out as he can.

I read about this priest in San Jose, California yesterday and was quite moved with the LGBT outreach he does at St. Julie Billiart church. Their parish motto is "We truly welcome Christ revealed in every person!" Amen to that!

And I would be truly remiss in not mentioning Most Holy Redeemer in San Francisco - another special place.

Now the people who provide for those in need are not perfect and the church (locally and globally) that gives the setting for these provisions, welcomes and celebrations are not perfect. Is this actually news to anyone?

This was also the week that revealed some of the very, very worst child abuse cases, which took place in Ireland. I admit to feeling so sick and depressed about it that I felt physically ill.

And then there was this announcement which came out on November 18, from the Catholic Health Association...  which is not all as simple as it looks and is less likely to be as stringently applied than the furor around it might imply.

So here we are, all slouching towards Bethlehem whether we know it or not and I can't imagine that I am the only one wondering who or what will be born.  Yes - Jesus, we know that he will be born, but what else?

I am ever amazed that the faith journey is one that has no destination; at least not on this earthly plane. It is all becoming and not what we became - that comes later.

This is not a convenient excuse to live a crappy life - something that seems to be ably done by the religious and the non-religious, by the politically right and the politically left, by the conservative and by the liberal. Living a crappy life is very much in the public domain and we all take a share in it.

In its own way that sounds like good eucharistic theology - it is in the public domain and we all potentially take a share in it. Our lives are all crappy at some basic level and then we do what we can do, within the confines of a church or belief system or not to become better people than we once were.

That is the problem with the more evangelically inspired thinking of individual salvation - what a load of crap that is, turning God into an American Idol style judge who is as cruel and capricious as Simon Colwell on a bad day.

Back to the road on which we slouch along on. Any God that would send his only son, himself really - as a baby is not likely to be an American Idol judge as I understand it. He sends himself as a baby born to a teenage single mother slouching towards Bethlehem on an ass with her not-always-so-sure betrothed, penniless, and at that moment, also homeless.

So here we are, starting out on that road, once again now that Advent is here. The church is shitty, people are shitty - and your point is? We know this, what is happening though? What is waiting to be born? I am not trying to be Pollyanna, I am however trying to be realistic and to not waste all my anger and energy on what I am against.

Today at sunset, Advent begins. The road to Bethlehem is untrod territory, the page before me is blank and my heart does not know what to do.

I do know what I will do- center holding or not, I continue that slouch and consider "always pain before the child is born."  However, like U2, "still I'm waiting for the dawn."

I am going to post U2's Yahweh here rather than video of Yeats reading his poem. The message of Yahweh is a bit more Advent inspired as I experience it.

What about you? 

Yahweh - U2
(a special thank you to reader/lurker MR who knows who she is because we corresponded today. your note helped me write this. your silent presence here is a gift beyond measure. thank you.)

Gratitude

To be grateful for all things - that is the challenge.

To be grateful for all things - that is the invitation.

To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives--the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections-- that requires hard spiritual work.


Still, we are only truly grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would like to remember and those we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fullness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for.


Let us not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see in it the guiding hand of a loving God." - Henri Nouwen, from Bread for the Journey

The Word of the Year And A Way Big Bunch of Rambling from Me. Enter - and stay - at your own risk!

The annual Oxford English dictionary has come out with its "word of the year" and that word is "unfriend."

Have you ever unfriended anyone on Facebook? I must ashamedly admit that I have. When I was new to FB, I was a bit over the top, friending all sorts of people and I realized that at some point. So I started to unfriend people that I really did not know or folks that I had just connected to very briefly, but who I would not likely have much contact with. I also unfriended people who clearly were not on FB - maybe they  just signed up and then never used it again.

Finally I learned how to "hide" and I started hiding things like Mafia Wars and all that other game stuff. Nothing personal if you play them, but it is not my interest. I have hidden people's updates if they are not folks that I am in regular contact with at all.

In any case, you now know more about my Facebook life than you might care to.

The reason that I bring this up is because I heard a homily at mass on Saturday that was based on this "word of the year- unfriend." It was a really good homily too!

Father Pat reminded us that God can never unfriend us. I was reminded of the complications of a committed faith life in the postmodern world. Some churchy folks go far and wide to not be postmodern, but I would be the first one to say that I am pretty much that and a person of faith as well.

This got me thinking about some other stuff too... Such as how so many people who have been truly hurt by the church confuse that with being hurt by God. That the church has hurt and continues to hurt so many is a tragedy to me and I understand why many seek other denominations than the one they start with or that they abandon faith altogether.

This led me to thoughts of how someone says "you make me feel stupid" or whatever we think someone makes us feel. I learned a long time ago, (thanks therapy!) that no one can make me feel stupid. People can do and say things that elicit many feelings and may hurt me, but in the end I choose to feel stupid or whatever. There is a lot of power in learning that and I am grateful.

This does NOT by the way get people (churches or otherwise) off the hook for saying and doing hateful things that leave people abandoned, broken or rejected.

So it makes sense that many people think that God is little more than a cruel joke and that they will dump him(or her) before he can do any more harm. As if a relationship with God were something that we could control!

When I was starting my job, almost one year ago, I was reminded by blogger Sebastian, who is himself a Catholic priest writing from deep cover, that the church people who have the potential to inflict the most harm are priests or parish secretaries. He was so right! I hope that I have not inflicted a lot of harm. I don't think my boss does either, but I see people get angry or upset with him.

This often happens as a result of him doing something that they don't agree with. It is kind of like God - and kind of like most human relationships - you are not always going to get what you want.

And often that causes barriers to come flying up and some sort of "unfriending" goes on one way or the other as we leave people or institutions behind.

Now sometimes the person or people or institution has to be left behind. I have left very close relationships over stupid things, and I have left close relationships to maintain my mental health and my integrity. Sometimes it happens, but I wonder about the ways in which we might terminate what would be better kept and vice versa.

All these thoughts from one word - unfriend.

I have gotten very angry with God and I must say I am grateful when I learned that I could do that without harm. God is not some firebreathing monster as I have come to understand him/her.  Never have I wanted to leave God though - never.  Maybe someday? Possible but not probable.

And yes - I do believe that God would never, ever abandon me - or unfriend me.  Which is exactly what Father Pat was talking about last night.

This past week had me encounter death in several ways.  First of all, as I have spent the past couple of days writing about, Rev. Jim Jensen, husband of Klady/Kathy died a week ago Saturday.

Roseann has been dying, as I wrote about recently and now she has finally gone. It is at once so sad but also a time of peace and relief for Roseann.   My heart does go out to Gary. Roseann won't be on Facebook anymore - and Mafia wars will be lessened by her presence.  She sure loved that game.

A friend of mine from high school died unexpectedly and another friend of mine lost a beloved aunt.

Yet all this death does nothing to diminish life and if anything, it has brought more friendship and not unfriending of any sort. In fact, in its own way it brings more in the way of of friendship.

And a reminder to me that God never, ever does unfriend us, no not ever.

Requiem - Resurrection (Part II of the Requiem Eucharist for Rev. James M. Jensen)

There is so much that I want to say about the Requiem Eucharist for The Very Reverend James M. Jensen and finding the right words is a challenge. (See part one here.)

This liturgy was extraordinary in every sense of the word.

Grace Church is gorgeous, a fine old church with an amazing organ. It was quite full as there were many present to pray with Kathy and her family and to celebrate Jim's life.

The music was sublime; I knew that this was important to Kathy and that a lot of effort went into choosing the right pieces. There was a beautiful prelude before the service began.

The crowd as I mentioned, was large and also quite diverse. As I sat there praying and listening to the prelude music, I was aware of so many different kinds of people who had come together for this moment.

The entrance hymn was 379, "God Is Love, Let Heaven Adore Him" and that was followed by 208, "The Strife is O'er." The processional made me weepy as I watched the choir and the many clerics and others make their way up the long, center aisle.

And did people sing! I sang as loud as I could as singing is a powerful prayer.

The numerous priests and deacons really struck me because there were men and women and it was quite a diverse group. That changes a church very much, something that I will comment on more in another post. Then the bishop, The Right Reverend Gladstone B. Adams III,  made his way up last, with his mitre and crook.

The first lesson was the one I plan to have read at my own funeral, Wisdom 3:1-9. No I am not planning on going anywhere, but I do have clear thoughts about what I want to have happen when I do.

This was followed by Psalm 46 sung by the choir and it was transcendent.

The second lesson was from Revelation 7:9-17 and I was also reminded of where we are in the liturgical year. Kathy had mentioned on Facebook that the theme of the eucharist was Easter and the sense of life into death into life was most profound in song and word.

The Holy Gospel was from St. John 5:37-40 and I did cry as it was proclaimed. I wondered about Kathy and her family up in the front row, how were they doing? I thought of all those who loved Jim and who worked with him and prayed that consolation would come. It will, but not in any easy way.  I also love how the Gospel is proclaimed in TEC, right from the center aisle - that is very beautiful and moving to me.

The Rev. John A. Wingert was the homilist and he spoke about this soul, taken away and how Jim's family and friends will mourn freely. He talked about how Jim had many relationships as Rector and how in his various roles, he touched so many people. It was also noted that Jim's passing will be felt profoundly at the deanery level and also at the diocesan level. Jim's gentle spirit and abiding faith were brought up and how he had a sense of humor - but never at anyone's expense.

Ultimately Rev. Wingert reminded us all that Jim had become one of the "great cloud of witnesses" and that those who mourn will draw strength from "sacrament and scripture," especially the Gospel which reminds us that "I will raise him up," as we are taught in John.

Again my thoughts were with Kathy and her family as they heard these words about their beloved husband and father, plus any other family that might be present. Of course the staff of Grace Church and all those in TEC who worked with Jim are mourning this loss and I pray for them too.

Communion was beyond words. As we all approached the Table of the Lord, the choir sang. As we slowly made our way up, I found myself standing in between the choir stalls waiting and surrounded by music. I had chills and I had a sense that this was what the Kingdom must be like.

My heart and mind were also infused with thoughts of Roseann that were so strong. It felt like she was passing at that moment, but of course she had not yet done so. My prayer for her was so strong and I wept as I slowly went to the altar to share in the Eucharist. (I am not sure if she has entered into the heart of God in death yet, but if not, it will be soon.)

The Holy Eucharist was nearly over. There was the Commendation and the prayers to give rest to Christ's servant, James as he went on to life everlasting.

Jim's casket, covered with the funeral pall slowly passed by on this part of the final earthly journey. Kathy and her family made their way down the center aisle, their sadness and pain was visible.  The hymn "Jesus Christ is Risen Today," one normally only heard at Easter was resounding through the church.

While I am deeply grateful to have been there, I was struck by such sadness. Yet I was also moved that we have such a profound community online, one that stretches far and wide.  It is great that we walk in joy from our distant outposts, connecting on blogs and Facebook but it is also a tremendous gift to be able to hold and support one another in our sorrow and loss.

Our hearts are united in prayer with Kathy and her family and all who loved Jim at this sad, sad time.

Grace Church, Utica, NY - Thursday November 19, Part 1

This was a blogger meet up of a different natue....While having met others before, last night's  was of a different nature, as it was occurring because of Rev. Jim Jensen's Requiem Eucharist. For those who do not know, Jim was the husband of Klady or Kathy.  (I hope that Kathy does not mind that I am using photos from her blog for this post. I especially love the baptism photo below - and as we all know death is a part of our baptismal promise, an act connect to death but filled with hope.)

The church, which you can see at the top, is quite stunning. I entered and got into a line of people waiting to pay their respects to Fr. Jim. As I did not know him in life, I could not say if he looked "good" - whatever that means. I do know that a body remains, but a soul has already gone onto the Kingdom and is deep within the heart of God. However, Fr. Jim did look exactly as his photo shows him, a handsome man and vested for his last Holy Eucharist.

After a brief prayer, in which every member of our community was in my heart I took a few steps towards Kathy. She took one look at me and a huge smile covered her face as she said "Fran?!" We embraced tightly. I am not typically at a loss for words, even at funereal events - tonight I stammered a bit and said that I was there on behalf of everyone, especially Jane, Mimi, Shelley and Doxy - as well as so many others. Kathy told me how grateful she was for what we all have out here. She felt so much love and support during the time from Jim's death forward. I quickly moved on.  (Shelley aka PseudoPiskie, was at the funeral of George Bland, father of blogger Janis Bland and couldn't make it to Utica.)

A few minutes later I saw someone I knew would be there, Rev. Lauren Gough who blogs as Muthah+ both here and here; what a joy to meet her even under these circumstances. She has the most beautiful smile and I further felt the enormous generosity of heart and spirit that I had experienced on her blogs and in email.

The place was awash in Episcopal clergy and I will write more about that at another time. The entire church hall was very, very busy as you can imagine. Seconds after meeting I looked up and saw the Rev. Mark Giroux. You are right to say "who?" Mark is not a blogger, but in a crazy small world thing I actually know him otherwise. It was at St. Mark's that Jim Jensen fell ill on Saturday. We chatted for a moment and I was further moved by how, as Fr. Mark had written to me in an email, "It astonishes me how the internet seems so often to expand the circle of God's love."

A little while later I had the chance to meet another blogger, one who is anonymous on his blog, but who I have gotten the chance to know via email. That would be none other than +Clumber. He was very discreet and The Right Rev. Gladstone B. Adams III who is the Bishop of CNY did not even realize that another bishop was present! I love that kind of clerical humility, that is all I can say.

I am going to break this up into more than one post, so this one will close here; more to follow.

The Wordless Place Where Only Our Hearts Can Speak - Updated

I was writing about Roseann the other day, as she navigates the pathway towards death.

Death is the one inevitable thing we must all face.  I used to read the blog of an atheist (and I have no problem with atheists or atheism in general; just because I don't agree, doesn't mean I have to stop exchanging ideas or having discussions) who believed that death was a disease that could be cured. This person thought I was delusional. I thought that maybe they were. We all have our delusions, don't we?

In any case, here we all are, praying for Roseann - and we are - not expecting death to come forth elsewhere.

Of course, it always does.

Yesterday, quite unexpectedly, the Very Rev. James M. Jensen died.  My heart goes out to Kathy, who blogs at Lady of Silences and to her entire family. There really are no words.

Yet I am reminded of what does bind us together, often in faith. This wordless place where only our hearts can speak.

Rest in peace Rev. Jensen. Peace, consolation and healing to his family and friends.

***Update: I neglected to add the tragic and sudden death of Terra Lyn Swinney to this post. Terra died when a gust of wind blew a tree onto her car last week.   She was 29 years old and the mother of a baby. Terra was a member of the community that Jane R. was working with last year.  Elizabeth also has a post up about this.

The Road Now More Traveled - A Year's Journey from November 2008 to November 2009

This was published one year ago, on my old blog. Well to be technical it was published on Sunday November 16, 2008.

Interesting to read today as my life is so different! I did of course, get the offer and took the job. And he didn't like me that much at first, we had our challenges.

Now we get along really well and I can't imagine calling him anything but Father. (You will have to read on to understand this.)

And I so love this job, in ways I never thought I could or would. Honestly, it is remarkable. Working there has changed me profoundly. 

Talk about unlikely! Beyond unlikely!

Go figure, who knew? Life is full of surprises.



There was no small amount of ambivalence about getting washed, dressed and out the door, but before I even get to that, I must examine what transpired.

It had been a bad night for sleep, something that comes in ill-timed cycles and might be hormonal and age related. At 5:40am, when I could not stay in the not-sleep anymore, I got up.

Oh well, I could catch up on email and blog-reading, right? Not before my prayers however, and the prayers did not come easily. How I loathe the dryness that so often appears out of nowhere. I am no St. Therese or Mother Teresa with this, I bitch about it to God quite often. Even my journal entry was lame and riddled with errors due to my poor non-Catholic-school penmanship. At least no one else will have to read it.

After coffee and the blogs, I looked at the clock... 7:22. If I were going to go, I had to leave at 7.30. I slogged upstairs, reconsidered, but brushed my teeth and washed my face anyway. Clothes went on and out the door I went.

I got into my car feeling leaden, as if I had some bowling balls in my pockets. Suddenly the remnants of my bizarre dreams came rushing forth like a bad, hot wind. I dreamt of the priest who married us, of small bottles of Gatorade and a place that was not at all familiar to me.

7.34am... Better hit the gas and go. The stupid garage door is screwed up and often refuses to close. Like today. Dammit! There, three is a charm indeed, it is shut.

Here, suburban quickly spills into the rural, as if the suburbs are fingers that push into the nearby farmlands. This road will soon be familiar. It is almost a straight shot, all 10.4 miles of it. Those miles will soon be my daily companions as I come and go. Offices, houses, school complex, then fields, barns, trailers. Land cleared for new homes that may never be built. Historical markers. A railroad trestle and a one way only pass under a bridge. I must wait my turn, it is 7.47! I have to be there by 8.

When it comes to punctuality I am an obsessive worrier of the worst sort and today my obsessive worrier was in a higher gear than my car, on this slow road. I pass the former mental hospital which is drug rehab facility now. It just has such a malevolent look to it. I shudder. What was that awful dream about? What did the little sample size Gatorade bottles mean?

Traffic light, turn right. Less than a mile now. Will the Obama sticker, in Hebrew no less, elicit anger or dismay from someone? Too bad, it is there and I have no need to remove it.

I pull in. Unlike my visit there on Friday, this morning the parking lot is reasonably full and getting fuller. That is a lot of people for 8am, I am impressed.

What am I getting myself into? I better go in and find out what this place and this guy is about.

I park in what seems to be the back, but like my own place, the sense of front and back are confused. In the 70's and early 80's, bad architecture was the sad norm for these places. Front? Back? There are too many doors here and it really is a reminder of where I go most weeks, most days at that. These two places are so similar yet so different.

Not wanting to cause a stir, I park where my sticker may be less obvious. Exiting the car I can feel the wind blowing hard on this gray morning, it cuts me like many little knives. This jacket is not warm enough for today. What does this wind portend for me?

I make my way in. People are not so friendly. It is actually rather nice inside. On Friday he showed it to me after we spoke. He made some minor improvements by covering the cinder block with dry wall. High wooden ceilings, vaulted. Windows - ok, but very much of that era. A cruciform building.

Scoping out the place I'd like to sit I find a good spot. Suddenly I realize that I neither genuflected or knelt down to pray. We are not big genuflecters at my place and we have no kneelers. I am as nervous as a cat. Whatever that means- my cat tends to sleep a lot and is generally mellow.

The altar is lovely really - raised up 3 steps and big. The altar table is odd however - it either looks like a big boat or a big bowl. I don't have much time to think because as soon as I sit down it is time to begin.

City of God - as good an entrance hymn as any, if a bit dated. I can sing it without looking at the song sheet. Will my tears be turned into dancing here?

They process up the aisle, two altar servers, a lector with the Gospel book held high and the presider. He seems like a nice enough man, or at least he did on Friday when we spoke. He reminds me of a an ISTJ version of the guy at my place. That one is an I but is more NFP like myself, except that years of corporate life made my P a little J-ish at times and my N a little T-ish. I am sorry if this makes no sense to you non-Myers Briggs types. Today I write for my own need.

It is liturgically lovely. Really nice. Decent music. A good sized crowd for 8am. It is all pretty good, moves along at a good pace, appropriate moments of silence, good community, nice homily.

The mass ends, I go out the door and wait to say hello. He is shaking hands, people passing by, saying hello. Then he gets to me, shakes hand - says hello - smiles and then his delayed reaction... "FRAN!" he shouts. He is happy to see me and surprised. "You're here, you came to mass!" "Yes," I say "I thought I would come see what this community was like." "So" he says, "what did you think?" The whole time he is gripping my hand rather tightly, something I know he has no clue of. "Father, it was a truly beautiful liturgy, really lovely. A nice place." There is problem number one - I almost never call priests "Father" if I can help it. That will be interesting to resolve.

I know it is time to move on, so I simply say "See you Wednesday." That's when we have the second interview. He really likes me.

My unemployment runs out next week. Despite my trying, there is no job for me at my parish. Or seemingly anywhere else, except a total commission gig selling a kind of insurance associated with a duck.

I have a conflicted relationship with my church and working for it will only challenge that.

Time to get back on the rural road and head back to my suburban home. As I drive, I wonder if this is really the right thing to do.

It may be... if I get the offer.

Show up. Pay attention. Speak your truth. Don't be attached to the outcome. Forgive. That is the key to all.

Show up. Pay attention. Speak your truth. Don't be attached to the outcome.

Forgive. That is the key to all.- Roseann Allen-Matthews

Roseann blogs at Give Peace A Chance, Please! I know Roseann from the community that formed at OCICBW and also at Wounded Bird. While I always followed what was going on with Roseann and her numerous health challenges that were so frequently outdone by her extremely positive nature, I was never in much contact with her. I don't know why- no real reason.

However I did always want to know what was up and I always kept Roseann in my prayers.

What always struck me most was how fiercely she seemed to live her life but yet in such a freely surrendered manner.

There have been so many ups and downs over the course of these two years and I think that most people would not have made it as far as Roseann has.

Roseann always reminded me of my friend Cathy. Cathy also had kidney disease and like Roseann, had a distinct lack of them. Cathy was on dialysis for almost 30 years!

Cathy taught me a lot about life; I wrote about her recently for All Souls Day. She had a certain sort of detached determination that I would see glimpses of in Roseann's postings.

Roseann is near the end. She is very peaceful about the whole thing. I find her whole attitude and outlook to be grace unleashed. It looks like her passing will be in a week or two and it will be very peaceful.

And I am much more emotional about this than I might have imagined, given my knowledge of but distance from Roseann's life.

If you are a praying person, please pray for Roseann and also please pray for her beloved Gary. (Gary will not only lose his partner but has his own health challenges.) 
And please - listen to her words that are used in the title of this post and that I put here for you once more - she is onto something.

Show up. Pay attention. Speak your truth. Don't be attached to the outcome. 

Forgive. That is the key to all. -Roseann Allen-Matthews

Go in peace Roseann.

Why I Like Both/And Better Than Either/Or

H/T to Jan at Yearning for God, for this one. She was writing about someone I quote and write about often, Richard Rohr, OFM.

Sometimes people write to me and say that they love Richard Rohr. Sometimes people say that he is a self-serving bag of wind. I say both/and!

Today my friend Paul sent me something that I had an either/or reaction to. And he showed me, in a spirit of friendship and fidelity, the both/and of what he sent me.

Life is good that way, isn't it?

Very both/and. And it would take a dog to help us figure that out!

Yes, I know, it has been awhile.

I have not posted in a week.

*sigh*

Let's not get started with that too busy business. Everybody is busy, aren't they?

Well, I did go to DC for the weekend. I spent time with my cousins which was great. That is my baby cousin, Jules.  He's pretty cute, isn't he?

That's me with his mama and his daddy - Paula and James. Yes - they're pretty darn cute too, aren't they?

That is baby Jules uncle Josh. He lives in Israel but is doing an internship on K Street.

And yes, that is Jules once again, this time with his grandmother Stephanie. Why do I not have any photos of his grandpa, Jeff?  Oy.

I also got to see famed blogger and all around fabulous CDP of Parenthetical. We had lunch together, which was both yummy and fun.

(I love BAC from Yikes. She is so much fun and so smart. Her head is kind of round. And blue. And has letters on it. I still love her though! And YES - I am making some left handed socialist pledge of allegiance, can't you tell!?!)

Then it was off to the big AU blogger meet up. Somehow none of my photos from this event came out well enough to post. Lots of bloggers were there including BAC - who works for AU, Alicia Morgan from Last Left Turn Before Hooterville, Dr. Zaius - who looks just like he does on his blog! Positively apey! Sue J from Nailing Jello to the Wall was there too. I am stealing a photo from his blog to show you. He thinks that I am "pestilence" anyway, so why not just tick him off further. Patriot Boy was there with Mrs. Patriot Boy, who was delightful. Also Ed Brayton - he blogs at Dispatches from the Culture Wars was present.

(That's Dr Z with Sue J. I think that he did something with her head and then photoshopped into this picture!!)

Alica, Ed, Patriot Boy - they all went over to the Tea Party thangs - check out their posts. Ed even got his photo taken with Bachmann. For real! Go see -  it is all right here if you click and then page down!  Alicia has some great posts on all the nonsense going on too.

What a fine weekend it was!  I will be back... eventually!

A Bone is Flung - A Retread from the Old Blog

This is a retread post from my old blog, with some adjustments made. Enjoy.

From early November, 2008....

This is all I've got today. I love this poem and have since I first spied in on the NYC subway as part of its "Poetry in Motion" series. That was in the 90's and I was probably headed uptown on the #1 to go to my twice weekly therapy appointment on the Upper West Side. (Update - twice weekly. Yes. Twice. Weekly. Therapy. Phew, back in the day.)

It has stayed with me ever since. I wonder what Langston Hughes would make of an Obama presidency.

Anyway, a busy day ahead and then I leave for a weekend whirlwind very early tomorrow morning. My destination is our nation's capital and by time the weekend is over, I will have met any number of you.

Now that is luck indeed! (Update: I did go on that journey and met all sorts of amazing people. And now another bone is flung - I get to go do it all over again come Friday!)

Luck

Sometimes a crumb falls
From the tables of joy,
Sometimes a bone
Is flung.

To some people
Love is given,
To others
Only heaven.

Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

All Souls Day - Remembering the Dead

NB: This post is a variation on something that I wrote for my parish blog.

On Monday November 2, we remember our beloved deceased on All Souls Day. Let us pray for those who have fallen asleep in the Lord. We wait in joyful hope always, in prayer, in love and in community.

I think of the dead all the time. This does not always make me feel sad, it makes me feel comforted. Now I am not morbidly sitting around obsessed with the dead... No, I rather think of them in the Kingdom, freed from this mortal coil.

My mother had so much physical pain and I like to think of her as free from that. Whenever I see a blue jay I think of my mom and I think it may be her checking in on me! My father had so much emotional turmoil and I imagine that is not the case any longer.

My friends Darlene, Cathy and Suzanne did not know each other in life, but I am certain that they are connected on the other side.  I miss them terribly, but I never forget them.

When Darlene died, I was about 30 and she must have been 28. She was my first close friend to die and I took it terribly. That was almost 22 years ago and I never stop remembering our short but powerful friendship. I still have a collage that she made for me.

Cathy lived way longer than any doctor predicted. She was given a death sentence by her physician at 19. She looked him in the eye and told him that she had a baby daughter and that she had no intention of dying until her daughter graduated from high school. Cathy died at age 53, with her daughter married and settled in life. Cathy taught me so many things that I will never, ever forget.

Suzanne and I had a brief friendship but we grew close quickly. She was on the brink of really living life after a long period of stress when she died suddenly and under mysterious circumstances. The death could not be determined a homicide, but that is one theory. I was in Callistoga, CA when I heard of her death and I can recall exactly how I felt when I got the call and how I spent the rest of what was supposed to be a nice day.  I drank a lot of Red Zinfandel that night.

Last week my friend who lives in another state called me to catch up. He spoke of another friend who had been on a cruise and several people died on this cruise. The next day I got a call from another friend, living in California. He told me that a mutual friend of ours had died. On a cruise. I soon figured out that I knew two people on that cruise ship and one of them did not get off alive.

I will think of my friend who died on the cruise and remember him too.

Death is sad but it is also a part of life. Sometimes people think I am unfeeling or obsessed with death in some other way, but I accept it in a particular way. Ask me how I feel however when someone close to me goes... That will be another story, won't it.

I miss my funeral ministry, but I do get to work on a lot of funerals at my job. Last week Father was away and I spent time with a family who had just suffered a loss. It fell upon me to help them plan the funeral liturgy for their beloved one. What a privilege, what a grace.

Who have you lost that touches you in a particular way? How do you remember them?

Please leave your prayers for the dead along with their names in the comments if you wish. Let us all pray for those who have gone before us on this day and always.

From the Preface for Christian Death I: [The hope of rising in Christ]

Father, all-powerful and ever-living God,

we do well always and everywhere to give you thanks

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

In him, who rose from the dead,

our hope of resurrection dawned.

The sadness of death gives way

to the bright promise of immortality.

Lord, for your faithful people life is changed, not ended.

When the body of our earthly dwelling lies in death

we gain an everlasting dwelling place in heaven.

And so, with all the choirs of angels in heaven

we proclaim your glory

and join in their unending hymn of praise:

Holy, holy, holy Lord...