tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68652803771664074112024-02-20T23:48:23.687-06:00KirkepiscatoidRandom and not so random musings from a 5th generation NE Missourian who became a 1st generation Episcopalian. Let the good times roll!Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.comBlogger1015125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-3738980729954747342015-09-23T15:36:00.001-05:002015-09-23T15:36:37.419-05:00Goodnight, Sweetheart<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/egX9N8yOgaU" width="420"></iframe><br />
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Everyone's life changes. Mine is no exception.<br />
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When I started this blog in 2006, blogging was relatively new, and I was relatively new to the Episcopal Church. I had many questions and few answers that gave me comfort. This blog became a wonderful spiritual gift to me--opening me up to many avenues within the Episcopal Church, particularly any of us who had any affiliation to what I lovingly call "God's Rainbow Tribe." We were all loud, proud--and a little bit cloaked.<br />
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The big uncloaking came in 2008, when we all found each other on Facebook and, later, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat--and there will be more.<br />
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When I started this blog, I had this notion that I would simply live out my days as the beloved pathology professor and local hospital pathologist, on my 35 acres of heaven in rural northeast Missouri.<br />
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God has a funny way of messing with plans like that.<br />
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It is now late September 2015, I no longer teach medical school pathology, I only work as a hospital pathologist two days a week, and I am in the process towards Holy Orders. I am the same person showcased in this blog, and I'm <u>not</u> the same person showcased in this blog. But the reality is, it's time to pull up my tent stakes and move to a new blogging adventure.<br />
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As many of us do when we aren't sure where we're going, we find temporary digs. For now, for at least 30 weeks, my new blogging home is <a href="http://chapologist.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">here</a>, and please visit when you can. I'll probably create a more permanent blog after that, and I'll definitely leave a trail of bread crumbs from there.<br />
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Thank you for sharing a piece of my world with me.<br />
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<i>"Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever. Amen."</i>Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-57062154555309644272015-07-24T17:41:00.001-05:002015-07-25T09:59:24.945-05:00The Anglican "four questions," aka the Glastonbury Legend<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/D5jw9lmAZNE" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(BBC Proms rendition of Jerusalem)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">They're not the Four Questions of Passover, but I believe, that, in an odd way, the Glastonbury Legend and the four questions in the hymn "Jerusalem" are matters important to our faith, even if they are not matters essential to it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">For those of you unfamiliar with the Glastonbury Legend...well, actually there are two arms of it, but it starts with the legend that Joseph of Arimathea, a tin merchant, traveled to England with the young Jesus. The legend was around since at least the 13th century, coupled with the idea that later, Joseph also brought back a chalice containing Christ's blood (aka the Holy Grail) to Glastonbury. The idea that Jesus had actually set foot in England was immortalized in <a href="http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/241908" target="_blank">William Blake's poem</a> in 1808, and set to music by Sir Hubert Parry in 1916. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's at this point the story gets a bit of a checkered past. The reason for setting it to music was pretty much...well...nationalistic. Originally to be a part of Britain's "<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/notesandqueries/query/0,,-1355,00.html" target="_blank">Fight for Right</a>" movement, and written at the time the British occupation of Palestine commenced during WWI, Parry pulled it from anything having to do with the Fight for Right movement, yet...it quickly became one of Britain's most beloved songs, even elevated to the status of a hymn in the Church of England. (This carries another delicious irony--Blake was a Nonconformist and formally rejected the Church of England.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Yet for modern-day Britons, "Jerusalem" is the equivalent of an alternative national anthem, crossing religious boundaries (note the woman wearing a hijab under her ball cap, at about 2:05 in the video above.) It's sung at rugby matches...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9jL0WfJ7C9Q" width="560"></iframe><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">...even when the participants are in the British commonwealth but not from England...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4yIWBO_7nio" width="560"></iframe><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">...and, of course, at Royal Weddings.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Back to "Jerusalem" and those four questions, though. Blake lines them out in the first stanza of his poem:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #505050; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; text-indent: -1em;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px; text-indent: -1em;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And did those feet in ancient time</span></span><br />
<div style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Walk upon Englands mountains green:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And was the holy Lamb of God,</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On Englands pleasant pastures seen!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And did the Countenance Divine,</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Shine forth upon our clouded hills?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And was Jerusalem builded here,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Among these dark Satanic Mills?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">(keep in mind punctuation rules in 1808 weren't quite what they are today.)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Although we don't carry the words over into the U.S., we do carry the melody over into <a href="http://www.oremus.org/hymnal/o/o101.html" target="_blank">#597</a> of the Hymnal 1982 in the Episcopal Church, as "O day of peace, that dimly shines." Even in the alternative words we present a reflection of the Glastonbury Legend. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It is in those questions, I believe, that something fundamental to our faith, even in America, matters as a part of our Anglican heritage.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The first question speaks to our belief in the immanence of Christ--that notion that Christ is always present and with us, somehow, somewhere. The second question raises the possibility that all that we are, and all that we have, is sufficient to offer before God. After all, if there was even the remote possibility that the temporal Jesus was present in places beyond the scope of what we know in the Bible, the possibility that Jesus' divinity resides alongside us and within us doesn't sound so goofy, does it?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">In the third question, we are reminded that behind the clouds and storms of life, God is still present, shining behind and through them--and in the final question we are urged to be a part of the New Jerusalem. There's some debate among scholars whether the "dark Satanic Mills" refer to the Industrial Revolution, the Church of England (Remember, Blake was a Nonconformist), or to something more abstract. All that aside, the fourth question lays the foundation that it is part of our journey with Christ to challenge the unjust structures of society, in the hope of the New Jerusalem.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
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</span>
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<div class="p3">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Legends matter. The truths within them matter even more, and have little to do with the accuracy of the facts. It means the New Jerusalem can arise from Ferguson, or Charleston, or Chattanooga, or Lafayette, if we are willing to believe, and respond to God's call in each of us to see our own green and pleasant land.</span></div>
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Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-563970707127801502015-05-24T09:21:00.001-05:002015-05-24T09:21:18.973-05:00Lightning Bugs and Pentecost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-tips/fireflies-in-the-dark-richardson/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi09dvoxIPndcWU2a3giD2XIcpq5uStPBVhRZt66jlQsyBpAX_fbwyoEK0eh9ptwnwal5Gwq_Ni9FthsK4lLB5nGPwsID71fWsgCZUsHP7WWEZ40TpOCSwlIZ_ML7qGmkUwq5auycAIVK8/s1600/fireflies-alfalfa-richardson_20253_600x450.jpg" /></a></div>
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(Read how these photos of lightning bugs in a Kansas hay field were taken <a href="http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-tips/fireflies-in-the-dark-richardson/" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br />
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I tried and tried last night to take a picture of what I was seeing last night outside, but my cell phone camera wouldn't come through for me. So I posted this 2009 National Geographic picture to give you an idea.<br />
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As I looked out across my hay field, I could see the faint glow of hundreds and hundreds of lightning bugs hovering just above the surface of the grass--a very interesting sight in light of the fact it was the eve of Pentecost. It got me to reflecting on how we've heard the Pentecost story in Acts so many times, and I think we've come to expect that receiving the Holy Spirit is supposed to be some huge gonzo-dramatic rush of wind and hubbub, yet maybe the reality is, that it's more like hundreds of lightning bugs in the dark.<br />
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This has been an interesting time in my life. (You might have heard there's an old Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times.") Being a part time seminary student and the letting go process of parts of my work life, have, on good days, been a little messy, and on bad days, anxiety provoking. What's interesting is that other people--including people who have nothing to do with the Church--keep referring to it in conversation as "your transition" and "transitioning." I come away from those conversations with this surreal feeling--they are literally referring to me in the 2nd and 3rd person in the same terminology as when a person switches gender. Then I think to myself, "Well, maybe it IS a little like what people feel like when they switch gender." I find myself passionate about new things, and less passionate about things that used to matter a lot. Granted, it's not hormones, but it is very, very visceral.<br />
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Yet perhaps this is how the Holy Spirit works within each of us--a lightning bug shining in fits and spurts, hovering over a dark field. When daylight comes, the lights are too small to notice. Perhaps it's only in the dark they can be discerned.<br />
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Pentecost blessings!Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-19350915050916168522014-07-30T11:58:00.001-05:002014-07-30T11:59:54.226-05:00Oh, Martha! Oh, Mary! Oh, Lazarus!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjzbWdIPXWNElNObi5YdxLDzLBxwj8NuZAw8MTBO_hrdq78vvkBDweOS1Seh9qkMUGPlQMABKTbCd-VaEVXQITcLwqdt3hZ78bzNr1Em6GSDdORJ5oPoNQr7fXus7ew1xfF1TM2O7nqY/s1600/Mary,_Martha,_and_Lazarus.jpg" /></div>
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(Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, from <a href="http://liturgyandmusic.wordpress.com/2010/07/29/july-29-mary-martha-and-lazarus-of-bethany/" target="_blank">OrthodoxWiki</a>.)</div>
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I have to admit, I've usually been more in Martha's camp in that whole "Mary/Martha/Jesus" story. There is always a lot to do in my life. Always.<br />
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I'll also add that for those of us hardwired with a little more "can do" nature, Mary of Bethany, at times, has been held over our heads like the Sword of Damocles. Mary, of course, is the "good" girl, sitting quietly at Jesus' feet. Martha is the "bad" girl--how dare she have her undies in a twist because she wants to get some things done around the place so the guests can eat and be comfortable! Why, the nerve of it! Mary is "good" for embodying the things society has come to deem positive feminine qualities. Martha, on the other hand, comes off as bossy, scolding, and shrewish. For so many years, the only thing I ever heard from the pulpit or Sunday School was that the qualities of which I possessed the minority were more prized than the qualities I knew I had, and that the ones I had were the "bad" ones in the story.<br />
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In short, <i>"You should be more like Mary and less like Martha," </i>sounded a lot like, <i>"If you were being truly a Christian woman, you'd be like Mary--not who you are."</i><br />
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So I had to chortle a little at a piece from <a href="http://www.elizabethesther.com/2014/07/i-am-martha-i-slay-dragons.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Esther's blog</a>, at her discoveries regarding the legend of Martha slaying a dragon, as well as the fact the Roman Catholic church has a feast day for Martha of Bethany, but not Mary of Bethany.<br />
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Well, it's worth pointing out that in the Episcopal Church, we celebrate all three on July 29--Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus. One of the things I love about Anglicanism is we often try to be more both/and, rather than either/or. Living in the tension of both/and, and believing in a God who can handle both/and, is a thread that underpins so much in our brand of faith.<br />
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The reality is, now and then, no matter which of the three we seem to be hardwired to be, there are times that Marthas like me DO need to slow down, sit, and listen. There was even a time I had to be Lazarus for a while--in those days after my breast cancer surgery and during my radiation therapy--when "being dead"--both to myself and to the world--was a very important piece of my healing. Yet, we should never feel guilty for being what we are hardwired to be. I think this particular story is difficult for strong willed women, for the women who get things done, and for women who don't quite fit the mold of traditional femininity.<br />
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Really, I'm grateful that other people are hardwired to be the Marys and the Lazaruses of the world, because I sure couldn't do it. I'm glad to work with them to advance God's reign, and to learn about the times I need to emulate them--just don't ask me to <i>be</i> them.Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-79134644717829962982014-03-12T14:27:00.001-05:002014-03-12T14:27:24.950-05:00A big realization<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modern_Kitchen.jpg" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhvDfmXBTu7qPxYikdEQ5pvyaUY1Xl8-x-Cg2sd8FBNdUISW0lHANfoTHAMN4vSnmISmAckOY-kUfwltHzvy15IFhWRuAqhLO1JILxE63iRMep12nayc9hu71r0J9p8ThUxEKafxlOkg/s1600/800px-Modern_Kitchen.jpg" /></a></div>
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(Photo of kitchen courtesy of <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modern_Kitchen.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a>)<br />
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Week one is pretty much in the books. I was "within my Lenten food budget" but I also didn't run out of anything important.<br />
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I did, however, have a really big realization. In short, I have "more kitchen" than most people.<br />
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I have a 4 burner full size gas cookstove with a broiler.<br />
I have a microwave that does more than "poke and nuke."<br />
I have a full-size deep freeze which enabled me to buy meat in bulk and the amount I'm counting off for a daily meat ration is cheaper than if I had to buy meat at the store.<br />
I have gizmos--crock pots, blenders, etc.<br />
I have a dishwasher that enables me to not have to wash a single dish after I've made a culinary mess, so I don't think about the extra time and energy to wash dishes or leave things sitting long enough to attract bugs.<br />
I have a fridge big enough to store leftovers.<br />
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I'm certain the average person who has to live on this food budget wishes their family could have any of these things. I'm betting the average person who has to live on this food budget puts in more hours at difficult, manual, or mentally tedious labor, and coming home to cook and clean dishes does not find this "fun."<br />
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I'm remembering cooking wasn't "fun" for me when I had very little income. Back when my days consisted of being in class (or on the hospital floors) for hours on end, nights on call, etc., cooking was something that kept me from more important things, like studying, vegging out in front of the TV, or sleeping. Cooking was only fun when I had a little free time, and friends to share it with, play cards, yard games, etc. Cooking only became "fun" for me when I got a little income and could experiment.<br />
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When I was in Lui, South Sudan, cooking was more communal. The kitchen crew who fed us worked plenty, but they worked together, shared stories and time. In the US, we all go home to our insular little worlds, and it's pretty easy to see cooking as thankless, boring, and hindering us from spending our time on more meaningful things. The temptation is to do as little as one can to do what one has to do and be done with it. Cooking is messy, and if one doesn't want bugs, mice, rats, roaches, etc., cleaning is a must.<br />
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Wow. It's not just about the food. It's about quality of life, of which food is just a tiny part.Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-55854688590714123572014-03-06T23:48:00.000-06:002014-03-06T23:48:01.634-06:00Only two days into Lent...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaSXEI-P3RcS8WwJnyFONhwNiuAV3861E8T-XPMSd0pSqDl7OpMz38mFuQfAhEViTGScULkABK0M_XjX3Tja2WXsL5ER7nGEpB42AaIiMKG9WmhNKDUhvgDuNoXxyyF-bda3b5yMNMWw/s1600/rationing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaSXEI-P3RcS8WwJnyFONhwNiuAV3861E8T-XPMSd0pSqDl7OpMz38mFuQfAhEViTGScULkABK0M_XjX3Tja2WXsL5ER7nGEpB42AaIiMKG9WmhNKDUhvgDuNoXxyyF-bda3b5yMNMWw/s1600/rationing.jpg" /></a></div>
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(photo courtesy of<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:RATIONING_SAFEGUARDS_YOUR_SHARE_-_NARA_-_515277.tif" target="_blank"> Wikimedia Commons</a>)<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">...and I've already had to make some choices about where I purchase food.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For starters, I decided to fast on Ash Wednesday up to the time of our evening service at 7 p.m. "Ah, though, I probably need a pint of milk, a little juice, and a couple of protein drinks..." I thought to myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, normally I'd run into the Casey's on Osteopathy Street to do that, since it's on my usual route to work. However, those items would each be anywhere up to 80 or 90 cents cheaper at the Hy-Vee. I have to make my food money last till next Wednesday (when I put another $86 in there and start with a new week. As it was, the things I got at the store came to $10.55.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I realized that, at this stage of my life, I pretty much buy whatever grocery item I want, wherever that's handiest to purchase. Yet doing this as my Lenten discipline has reminded me it wasn't always that way, and this is the way it is for many people EVERY day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I also realized a staple in my life at Lent is going over to Mary Immaculate's fish fry on Fridays in Lent, right after we've done Stations of the Cross at Trinity. That's $7.50 right there. I realized that will be my "splurge" for the week during this project.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am remembering. Remembering the days when every penny for food needed to be accounted for. Remembering that part of how we got by in the winter, when my dad was laid off, was because he hunted, and because we'd occasionally get a calf or a pig to raise up and butcher. Remembering we'd buy the "pieces and ends" of the bacon instead of the strips...things like that. Remembering there were a few days that biscuits and gravy were the main course.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">How did I forget so much?</span><br />
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<br />Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-25515943878817718092014-02-28T10:32:00.000-06:002014-02-28T10:33:09.504-06:00Lent 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXupphopPewYg-owfsMip1K_sTUFEqNaTy_OWfx7zgus3-6YAlE2lGgGfFT3Xyawi-X4hblifBIDLvmOEP0ILHaOVv5BUXoJvII95zWyIZLt9BXqkMey6AjlUGvV5SLteDcKaDbJNjwTs/s1600/lent+40+days+clipart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXupphopPewYg-owfsMip1K_sTUFEqNaTy_OWfx7zgus3-6YAlE2lGgGfFT3Xyawi-X4hblifBIDLvmOEP0ILHaOVv5BUXoJvII95zWyIZLt9BXqkMey6AjlUGvV5SLteDcKaDbJNjwTs/s1600/lent+40+days+clipart.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I just posted this to my Facebook page today:<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 18px;">As Lent approaches, some of y'all have asked what I plan to do for my Lenten spiritual discipline. This year, b/c I've been so involved in food ministries, I decided to make it about food awareness. I went to the Economic Policy Institute</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 18px;">'s Family Budget Calculator <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.epi.org%2Fresources%2Fbudget%2F&h=7AQFg3yKM&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.epi.org/resources/budget/</a> to determine what the bare minimum food budget was for my household (Ok, so I'm claiming "one person and two dogs" is close enough to "one person and one child" b/c that's the lowest it goes.)<br /><br />That comes to $86 a week in my area of the country. My plan is for the dogs and me to live during Lent on a food budget of $86 a week. To prevent my urge to "hoard," I'm going to subtract the food in my cabinets from the budget if I use something I already have. I'm also participating in <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1275344015&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/jane.redmont" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Jane Redmont</a>'s online Lenten course, which is also about "food." I've calculated my normal monthly grocery bills on my credit card, and will donate the difference to food ministries.<br /><br />That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm telling you, my Facebook folks, as another layer of "keeping me honest." I hope everyone who observes Lent has a blessed one!</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
I hope to keep you all appraised of this journey via my blog: My thoughts, musings, (and perhaps even hunger pains!) May each of you, in your own way, observe a blessed Lenten season.Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-19617256854269158652013-12-10T08:11:00.002-06:002013-12-10T08:11:44.189-06:00The Smart Phone is the new Cigarette<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/dbKQklwNScA" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
This morning, as I rolled over, put on my glasses, and checked my smart phone, I was reminded of something I told our diocesan communicator Beth Felice: "The smart phone is the new cigarette."<br />
<br />
One of the things I do during Advent is to make room to be playful...because sometimes in play, our realities are revealed. So, with great apologies to Merle Travis and Tex Williams and "Smoke that Cigarette" I present "Check, Check that smart phone..."<br />
<br />
Now I'm a person with a heart of gold<br />And a most generous person I've been told<br />Wouldn't kick a dog or even harm a flea<br />
<br />But I believe I could break every bone <br />
Of the inventor of the digital phone <br />
Oh, I'd murder that son-of-a-gun in the first degree<br />
<br />
<br />It ain't cuz I don't have one too <br />
And I reckon that goes for both me n' you<br />
It's a part of the modern world that we must own<br />
<br />
<br />But cell phone slaves are all the same <br />
At a pettin' party or a poker game <br />
Everything's gotta stop while they check their dang smartphone<br />
<br />
<br />Check that smart phone one more time <br />
Check that smart phone 'till you make yourself go blind<br />
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate <br />
That you hate to make him wait <br />
But you just gotta check your smart phone one more time<br />
<br />
<br />Now in a game of chance the other night<br />
Old Dame Fortune was a-doin' me right <br />
The kings and the queens just kept on comin' round<br />
<br />And I got a full and I bet 'em high <br />
But my bluff didn't work on a certain guy <br />
He just kept on raisin' and layin' that money down<br />
<br />Now he'd raise me and I'd raise him<br />
I sweated blood, gotta sink or swim <br />
He finally called and didn't even twitch or moan<br />
<br />So I said "aces full Pops how 'bout you?" <br />
He said "I'll tell you in a minute or two <br />
But right now, I gotta check this picture on my phone"<br />
<br />
<br />Check that smart phone one more time <br />
Check that smart phone 'till you make yourself go blind <br />
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate <br />
That you hate to make him wait <br />
But you just gotta check your smart phone one more time<br />
<br />
<br />The other night I had a date <br />
With the awesomest person in the United States <br />
All high-bred, uptown, mannered as could be<br />
<br />The night went on and seemed to me <br />
That things were 'bout like they oughta be <br />
Progressin' well, as far as I could see<br />
<br />It was clear we both had broken the ice<br />
And our smoochin' party was goin' nice <br />
So help me y'all, I believe I'ze almost home<br />
<br />But then after a kiss and a little squeeze <br />
And I heard, "uh, hang on, excuse me please<br />
I just got a Facebook message on my phone"<br />
<br />Check that smart phone one more time <br />
Check that smart phone 'till you make yourself go blind <br />
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate <br />
That you hate to make him wait <br />
But you just gotta check your smart phone one more time<br />Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-51599074513366213422013-08-11T23:41:00.001-05:002013-08-11T23:43:09.461-05:00Seeing the promises from a distance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:227_Images_Perseid_Meteor_Shower.jpg" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxO8ZO2G2SBp5P77COsaaWo-uGYsjBPfNKX_naWtm1sbr29ZTsA1vqLY1-wTM6Kfl_UXP8_uXWUB2KMPSIzQxSAX4EZnMRNO4OX2DTTYhvUI62tN-kTY12sA8t-kwXdMs0KYIELXr_8Rg/s1600/800px-227_Images_Perseid_Meteor_Shower.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
(Images of 227 star trails taken during the night of the Perseids meteor shower, courtesy of <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:227_Images_Perseid_Meteor_Shower.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a>)<br />
<br />
<h2>
Hebrews 11:1-3, 11:8-16:</h2>
<i>Now faith is the assurance of things
hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our
ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds
were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from
things that are not visible. By faith Abraham obeyed when he was
called to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance;
and he set out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he stayed for
a time in the land he had been promised, as in a foreign land, living
in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same
promise. For he looked forward to the city that has foundations, whose
architect and builder is God. By faith he received power of
procreation, even though he was too old-- and Sarah herself was barren--
because he considered him faithful who had promised. Therefore from
one person, and this one as good as dead, descendants were born, "as
many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the
seashore." All of these died in faith without having received the
promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed
that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who
speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If
they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would
have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better
country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be
called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
Ever had the experience of hearing something new in a familiar piece of Scripture? Today, both in church, and later, when I read this text at two nursing home visits with elderly parishioners, I heard Verse 13-16 of this for what seemed like the first time: <i>"</i><i>All of these died in faith without having received the
promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed
that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who
speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If
they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would
have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better
country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be
called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them." </i><br />
<br />
<br />
This week is also one of my favorite times of summer--the Perseids meteor shower. I have an interesting relationship with this natural phenomenon--some of the best displays I've seen of the Perseids have happened at some of the worst times of my life--times I was nowhere near the promises and the best I could do was stand in the dark and catch a glimmer of their existence, as fleet and temporary as a meteor trail, and greet them.<br />
<br />
I am a person who is very intimately attuned to this country home I've lived in for 13 years. I take my evening walks down the dirt road past my house and I literally notice day by day the tiny, seemingly insignificant changes. I feel my way through the seasons. Just today on my walk, I thought about those subtle evening things that remind me summer is waning. Only a rare lightening bug flickers, compared to June, when they seem more like the twinkling lights of the big city. Prairie roses and multiflora roses have given way to ironweed and butterfly weed, and the first of the sunflowers--mostly tickseed sunflowers--have just started to flower. The indigo bunting I sometimes see on my walks has started to have a little darker, more neon plumage. I need to get my walk finished before 8:30 p.m. as the days of walking as late as 9something p.m. are over.<br />
<br />
The world of my little country home is an interesting balance between sameness and anti-sameness. Yes, I've come to rely on the sameness of these tiny more or less repeatable changes, but no two years here have been the same. Some of these changes wax and wane in their vividness and their obscurity. Each year, I'm a year older. Something in my life has changed. I never really get to go back to the year before. I think about how every major change in my life, I've placated myself by saying, "Oh, well, if it doesn't work, I'll just go back to the way it was before." But that is a lie I think I tell myself to prod myself forward. The truth is, even when things don't work out, even when my hopes are shattered, the door is barred to that place--perhaps not physically or geographically, but the fact of the matter is, I've changed. The experience--even the failed ones--have changed me. Yet that elusive heavenly country is still there before me.<br />
<br />
The Perseids, if nothing else, remind me to, above all else, remain awake. The heavenly country is out there somewhere, even if the sky is overcast, and even if the way home seems elusive.Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-59263374713539227252013-03-31T04:30:00.000-05:002013-03-31T04:30:01.662-05:00A Song of Creation (for early Spring in Northeast Missouri)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxH1s-fNEQj7881qrG4hX_y9gIHYAjqyvkofrPFYCFe5oXMm9IXhqTor0Ds4lF5G5OOo4D0LyxnFMrq2-F1cFE_o2weP3Vb4SlzBc0tpBUiifgE8v4Hg5q2swIHAGnE6BMSsP5qAEAD4/s1600/IMG_20130329_183123_557.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxH1s-fNEQj7881qrG4hX_y9gIHYAjqyvkofrPFYCFe5oXMm9IXhqTor0Ds4lF5G5OOo4D0LyxnFMrq2-F1cFE_o2weP3Vb4SlzBc0tpBUiifgE8v4Hg5q2swIHAGnE6BMSsP5qAEAD4/s400/IMG_20130329_183123_557.jpg" /></a> </div>
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(The first crocuses of Spring 2013 make their appearance at my house)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
On this glorious Easter Day of 2013, I thought I'd rework my favorite canticle for Morning Prayer, "A Song of Creation." Alleluia! Christ is risen! Looks like my home in the country is also having a bit of a resurrection, too!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
Song of Creation (for early spring in northeast Missouri)</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(Modeled
after Canticle 12, p. 88, BCP)</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Invocation </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, all you works of the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. <br />
In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I</span></i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <i>The Cosmic Order</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i> </i>
</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, you blustery winds of spring, * <br />
O skies and lakes and ponds and rivers. <br />
Constellations and planets, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, sparkling dew and thick frost, * <br />
O fog and snow and rain. <br />
Robins and goldfinches, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, you flowers and green grass, * <br />
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Crocuses and daffodils, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, O inclement weather, * <br />
O sticky mud and late March snowstorm. <br />
Thunderheads and north winds, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">II
The Earth and its Creatures </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let
the earth glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. <br />
Glorify the Lord, O pastures and hills, <br />
and all that awakens to grow upon the earth, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, O creek banks and gullies, * <br />
O frogs and crawdads and tadpoles. <br />
Mosquito and wood tick, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, O raccoons and possums * <br />
and all you cattle and sheep. <br />
O country folk and city folk, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">III
The People of God </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let
the people of God glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. <br />
Glorify the Lord, O lay people and ordained, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Glorify
the Lord, O spirits and souls of God’s people, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. <br />
Poor folk and rich folk, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Doxology </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "Goudy Old Style","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let
us glorify the Lord: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. <br />
In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord, * <br />
praise him and highly exalt him for ever. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-35374913257254039982013-03-29T07:52:00.000-05:002013-03-29T13:44:33.936-05:00Sermon for Maundy Thursday, Trinity Episcopal Church, March 28, 2013<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.the-athenaeum.org/art/detail.php?ID=35937" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfGND1f6ZVpHrvT1qURlVa9K8FFFKbn1CboeCNSM_bRaEyYxOKdhaTFrsEuaK5VurFwWVhRFvlWj4gDwUmwyu_PICZEkDhnbMPuQJj284KgrQKhkRIzbCy6AUEUd8F1kQPVCvFt6tO-M/s400/the+thankful+poor.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
("<a href="http://www.the-athenaeum.org/art/detail.php?ID=35937" target="_blank">The Thankful Poor</a>," by Henry Ossawa Tanner.)</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Maundy
Thursday C—March 28, 2013—Trinity Episcopal Church</span></b></div>
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Exodus
12:1-4(5-10)11-14; Psalm 116:1-2, 10-17; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17,
31b-35 </span></b>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">Maria L. Evans </span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I
have done to you.”</span></i><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Something that was
said at our weekly Eucharist and Text Study over at Twin Pines really caught my
attention Tuesday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I heard someone
describe our Gospel reading we just heard tonight as a parable of action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually Jesus’ parables are stories; but in
this one, it is his actions, not his words, that create the paradox.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the commonest forms of hospitality in
those days was to see that a guest had clean feet after a long day on the
road—but it was usually a servant, a slave, or the woman of the house who
performed that task.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly not the
Lord and Master! Yet it is exactly the Lord and Master who is the one kneeling
with the water and the towel at the feet of the disciples, in the hopes that
they learn by example and do likewise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On our bulletin cover
tonight, Henry Ossawa Tanner illustrates this in a different way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though the house in this painting is
rather bare, and the meal a meager one, the grandfather is setting an example
by giving prayerful thanks for it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Certainly his hope is that his grandson will follow this example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a safe bet that the grandfather learned
this from someone in his life with a similar hope.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many of us can look
at the stories of our lives and think fondly of the people and situations where
we learned by example.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can probably
also think of the times when we were a little slow on the uptake with those examples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This slowness is captured in our Gospel
reading through the interchange between Jesus and Peter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Poor Peter, he’s always the fall guy in
these stories!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We, of course, have the
benefit of knowing the plot spoiler in advance—we can see that Jesus is trying
to teach that serving in love—even serving at the most mundane or ordinary task—sends
an extraordinary message about where God’s power actually lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Peter can only see his own discomfort in
being the recipient of this gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Dude!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are not going to clean
off my gnarly, toe jam-ridden feet!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s a job for underlings, not a great teacher and prophet like
you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let the help do it!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He totally misses the message until Jesus points
out that Peter’s refusal is a refusal of Jesus, rather than just a refusal of a
foot bath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I look at our
picture on tonight’s bulletin cover, the posture of the grandson makes me
wonder if he may not yet totally understand his grandfather’s message.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The grandfather’s prayer posture seems to
reflect a slightly deeper sense of gratitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The grandson is obediently following his lead, but his left hand seems
to be pushing against the table a little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Perhaps the grandson simply is hungry and wants to eat—or perhaps he
hasn’t yet learned the lesson about gratitude that is best expressed by an old
saying of the Hausa tribe in Nigeria—“Give thanks for a little, and you will
find a lot.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Lessons about
gratitude aren’t always the easiest lessons to learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it’s because poverty and abundance are
so hard to define in a way that is consistent in our lives and at the same time
unclouded by judgments and assumptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Take the title of the painting on our bulletin—“The Thankful Poor.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would we think the title appropriate if the
grandfather had a smart phone sitting on the table?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would the title fit if the man and his
grandson were a little on the portly side?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What if they were giving thanks over a McRib, a Happy Meal, and a pair
of giant sugary Cokes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not always
easy to sort out, is it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Even the kinds of
images the Bible uses for “abundance” are a little problematic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first glance, they seem great--lands
flowing with milk and honey; cups overflowing; vats of wine bursting at the
seams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That said, God’s abundance is not
particularly neat and tidy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s
probably a sticky residue with all that milk and honey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Overflowing cups stain the tablecloth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bursting wine vats most certainly leak all
over everything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In a world where we
are told that we can never be too rich, too thin, or have too many electrical
outlets, it’s almost impossible to believe that the simplest and commonest acts
of humble service can amount to much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet it’s equally impossible to predict their delayed reaction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus points that out when he tells Peter,
“You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if the grandson in our painting doesn’t
totally understand his grandfather’s gratitude, he might get it later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of us know lessons we didn’t get the
first time, but the example stayed with us somehow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Acts of humble
service, when performed in love, also create a window for others to be opened
to even more opportunities to express their own callings and to respond to
their own nudgings from the Holy Spirit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many of us who volunteered at the food drive Saturday heard several
donors relate times when they had to be the recipients of assistance and the
difficulties of having to accept help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our food drive gave others the chance to reflect on their own stories
and respond by being participants in even more acts of humble service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can bet that others were watching <u>their</u>
example, too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was especially
evident when donors were either letting their children pick out a food item to
donate, or allowed their small children—some as young as toddlers—place the
food in the truck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, they really
didn’t understand it now—but the hope, of course, was that someday they would.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I imagine God hopes for
the best in us every day—even in the midst of humanity at its most evil—wars
and hate and greed—and in those times God truly grieves and hopes that someday,
we’ll understand. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to imagine God
smiles at us when we manage to get something—anything—right, much how we smile
when toddlers are imitating our good examples.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sometimes, it’s hard for us to see the good examples in this torn and
hurting world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are reminded in our
Epistle, though, that Jesus still teaches us by example, because we always have
an opportunity to receive, reflect, and repeat his example by sharing in the
Eucharistic feast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tonight is an
opportunity to reflect upon this in a way that we only get one time a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Many of you know that
one of our traditions on Maundy Thursday is the stripping of the altar—the
removal of all things related to Christianity and the liturgical traditions
that evolved from it. I’ve often sat here on Maundy Thursday and wondered,
“What if Jesus had simply never happened?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What would be missing from my life if this never existed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What stories from my life would be stripped
from my memory?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Would I have ever
bothered to know any of the people sitting here with me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What would sit on this piece of ground
instead of this building?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How would the
absence of all this change who I understand myself to be?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In short, this night
invites us to temporarily experience an extreme poverty that we never have to
fear in real life, because the truth is that we can strip the church of all its
trappings, but God can’t be stripped from us. It calls us to a deeper
understanding that when we are asked to “lift up our hearts” in the Eucharistic
Prayer, we are already lifting up something stripped of all of our pretenses,
and stripped of the judgments everyone else has put upon them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are holding up our hearts to God as only
God sees them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On this night—Maundy
Thursday—we are invited to become one of the thankful poor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">AMEN</b></span></div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-71482844091762454972013-03-26T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-26T05:00:07.036-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (complete set of all seven stations)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9QJh889AhHKCo_lp7gMNjRDl008P2GWqF1DAca6jqtXXCHE33drc5A5Hhjcs3crj8BgRmXc8W73EhqyeBJQieDKymmTgGpKfBlmNChgMz8D54ILuULlF24drP0kdZAZOWzJ-fQRvR7E/s1600/7sorrows.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq9QJh889AhHKCo_lp7gMNjRDl008P2GWqF1DAca6jqtXXCHE33drc5A5Hhjcs3crj8BgRmXc8W73EhqyeBJQieDKymmTgGpKfBlmNChgMz8D54ILuULlF24drP0kdZAZOWzJ-fQRvR7E/s400/7sorrows.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Seven Sorrows of Mary</span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(A seven station devotion by Maria L.
Evans)</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Also
known as the Seven Dolors, the Seven Sorrows incorporate four of the Stations
of the Cross and three other episodes in the lives of Jesus and Mary, namely:<br />
<br />
The Prophecy of Simeon (Luke 2:34-35)<br />
The Flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13)<br />
The Loss of the Child Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:43-45)<br />
Mary Meets Jesus on the Way to Calvary<br />
Jesus Dies on the Cross (John 19:25)<br />
Mary Receives the Body of Jesus in Her Arms (Matthew 27:57-59)<br />
The Body of Jesus Is Placed in the Tomb (John 19:40-42)<br />
<br />
In particular, this devotion is written to call attention to issues related to
women's empowerment and the United Nations’ Millennium Development Goals,
particularly the ones involving women and children.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
Each station opens with a stanza from a version of the Stabat Mater ( the tune
is #159 in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>The Hymnal, 1982</u></i>;) Stanzas
in each of the stations come from various sources of Anglican hymnody (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>The Hymnal 1982</u></i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>The Hymnal 1940</u></i>, and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>The 1906 English Hymnal</u></i>;) so that
the opening lines of each station can be either spoken or sung.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Times for silent meditation are provided at
each station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Intercessory prayers and
petitions may be added as part of the Concluding Prayers.<br />
<br />
<b><i>The First Sorrow--Simeon's Prophecy to Mary</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>At the cross her station keeping,<br />
stood the mournful mother weeping,<br />
close to Jesus at the last,<br />
Through her soul, of joy bereavèd,<br />
bowed with anguish, deeply grievèd,<br />
now at length the sword had passed.</i><br />
<br />
Simeon told Mary, "“This child is destined for the falling and the rising
of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner
thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul
too.""<br />
<br />
Each day during school terms, mothers all over the world send their children off
to school--some on buses or in cars, some on foot. Some wearing crisply
ironed colorful uniforms, others toting the ubiquitous oversized
backpack. On each of those days, a mother's hope is that her child learns
not just the things that will make them happy and successful as adults, but
will also make the world a better place. In the photos of first grade
classes, we see dreams of future firefighters and doctors, farmers and
merchants, teachers, nurses, veterinarians, merchants. None of those
children at age six are dreaming of being a sex worker, a drug dealer, a petty
thief, or a gun-runner. Yet, that is exactly who some of these sweet
children will be when they grow up.<br />
<br />
Each school day, mothers let their children leave the safety of home to be entrusted
in the safety of school--but school is not always as safe as our hopes would
like it to be. Every day, all over the world, the safety of school is
violated somewhere--school shooters, bombings, wars, coups. Children are
killed on the way to and from school by vehicles, land mines, drive-by
shooters, and car bombings. Children are abducted. Children are
molested. These crimes against children remind us daily that the world is
far from being a safe place.<br />
<br />
The Mother of Jesus knew the sorrow of Simeon's prophesy. Mothers
throughout the world know the sorrows of the statistical probabilities in a
dangerous and deadly world. Some mothers know this more deeply than
others, in the places of the world with shortened life expectancy, high infant
mortality, and high maternal childbirth-related deaths.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Comforter God, the Blessed Mother of Jesus suffered the piercing sword of
Simeon's prophecy; you know the swords that pierce our hearts also. You
know our fears for our children, and the fears of mothers all over the world
for their children. Hold our children and our fears in your loving
embrace. When we want so badly to draw ourselves inward and pull our
children closer, aid us in letting them go forth in the world to learn and
grow, despite the risks. Help us to remember the mothers in the places
where danger is more imminent. Especially be present with the families
whose child does not come home; the families whose children are lost or
abducted, missing, or killed. Help them to find hope and grace in the
places that seem too full of hatred and grief. We pray all these things
in the name of your son, Jesus.<b> Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>The Second Sorrow--The Flight into Egypt</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>O, that blessed one, grief-laden,<br />
blessed Mother, blessed Maiden,<br />
Mother of the all-holy One;<br />
O that silent, ceaseless mourning,<br />
O those dim eyes, never turning<br />
from that wondrous, suffering Son.</i><br />
<br />
It must have been a tense time for the Holy Family as they prepared to leave
Nazareth in light of the angel's instructions to abandon their home. How
does one prepare to escape without attracting much attention? Knowing
they had to leave the security of home and possessions carried its own stress
and fear. As they fled, each person they represented on the road represented
a potential hidden danger. It must have felt quite troublesome to seek
refuge in the land where their ancestors found only bondage.<br />
<br />
Each day, mothers and their children flee danger. Some flee to escape
flooding, storms, hurricanes, typhoons. Some flee because of war and
oppression. Some flee abusers within their own households--people they
love. Others flee from economic bondage in the form of sweatshops and
exploitative work arrangements. Just as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus fled to
avoid a certain death for their son in the Slaughter of the Innocents, families
all over the world pack their bags and seek a new home, a new country, for
shelter and sanctuary. Some hope for a new life and new prosperity.
Many only have the clothes on their backs and a few treasured
possessions. Many risk being "illegal." Sometimes they
suddenly find themselves in exile because governments dissolve or the ruling
powers are overthrown, and situations dictate that they can no longer return
home.<br />
<br />
In times of natural disaster and war, families sometimes return home to find
they no longer have one. Sometimes they return to find a physical shell
of what they called home, but the rest of their family dead. Towns and villages
can be wiped from a map, but the memory of those who once lived there can only
be wiped off the map if we choose to forget them. Painful as it might be,
may we remember.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
God of sanctuary, just as Mary and Joseph chose to flee in order to spare the
life of young Jesus, families flee every day to save the lives of their
children. They risk new and present dangers to escape the dangers of the
world they already know. They choose to accept the ambiguities of the
unknown rather than be swallowed up by the dangers in their immediate present
moments. Illumine their path as they seek new homes, permanent and
temporary. Comfort them when they mourn those who die in the whirlwind of
violence; assuage them from the sense of guilt that sometimes comes with the
mercy of survival. Give them the courage to start over. We ask
these things in the name of your Son, Jesus. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>The Third Sorrow--The loss of the child Jesus in the Temple</i></b><br />
<i><br />
With what pain and desolation,<br />
With what grief and resignation,<br />
Mary watched her dying son.<br />
Deep the woe of her affliction,<br />
when she saw the crucifixion<br />
of the sole begotten one.</i><br />
<br />
Imagine Mary's fear and apprehension when young Jesus was nowhere to be found.
Even though no one can watch her child every minute of every day, Mary
certainly must have blamed herself. Perhaps she had cross words with him
just prior to his slipping away unnoticed, or she had disciplined him, and she
regretted it. Perhaps she and Joseph blamed each other, or they were
caught in the uneasy web of wanting to console each other, yet there was no time,
because they needed to keep searching for their son.<br />
<br />
Each day, thousands of sons and daughters go missing. Some have left home
of their own accord. Others have been abducted. Families of missing
children find each day, each hour, a torment. They have searched in vain
for their children, trying the same avenues over and over, until they are so
weary, they simply want to stop. Yet they cannot--to stop searching feels
like resigning to their child's death. Their lives are hung in a state of
suspended animation--is their child alive? Or dead? Some
mothers will go to their grave never knowing. When the phone rings, does
it bring relief? Or will it bring grief?<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Omniscient and omnipresent God, you call the stars by name and can count the
number of raindrops in a thundercloud. No one is absent from your
sight. Attend to the fears and grief of the families who mourn their
separation from their missing children. Incline the ears of the runaway to hear
your small still voice. Lend your aid and protection to the missing
children who are in danger and cannot defend themselves. When the lost are
found, when the absent become present, help us to ponder these things in our
hearts in the same way the Blessed Virgin Mary did, upon discovering Jesus in
the temple. In the name of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, finder of lost sheep, we
pray. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>The Fourth Sorrow--Mary Meets Jesus on the Way to Calvary</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>Who, on Christ's dear mother gazing,<br />
in her trouble so amazing,<br />
born of woman, would not weep?<br />
Who, on Christ's dear Mother thinking,<br />
such a cup of sorrow drinking,<br />
would not share her sorrows deep?</i><br />
<br />
Nothing could have consoled Mary when she saw her son on the way to
Calvary--whipped and scourged, the crowds mocking, taunting and jeering.
Perhaps they also scorned her for approaching him, mocking her cries and moans
as she beheld the horror of what had been done to Jesus. But perhaps also
in that crowd there were silent mothers whose stomach churned at the thought,
"This could be my child. I could be that woman."<br />
<br />
Each day, mothers travel long distances to see their children in prison and in
police stations. Some behold the horror of their children beaten by
authorities. In some countries, brutality at the hands of police and
soldiers is typical and expected, rather than unusual and deplorable.
Some of these mothers will discover that their daughters will have been raped
by those who swore to uphold and protect the laws. Some mothers will see
their children's limbs blown off by land mines and IED's, or visit them in the
hospital following such events. Some mothers will weep at the side of
their children dying on the battlefield.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Liberator God, when we view the carnage of the world news through media
sources, remind us that these could be our children, our parents, our
siblings. Help us to see the pain of the Blessed Virgin Mary beholding
her son at Calvary, rather than to pass judgment on the situation or the
politics. Fill our eyes with her tears, our hearts with her sorrow, our
stomachs with her aching love for her Son. Place your words in our mouths
so we can find the voice to speak out on behalf of the oppressed; animate our
hands and feet to work for justice and peace. We ask this in the name of
your Son, the Prince of Peace. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<b><i><br />
The Fifth Sorrow--Jesus Dies on the Cross</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>In the passion of my Maker,<br />
be my sinful soul partaker,<br />
may I bear with her my part;<br />
of his passion bear the token,<br />
in a spirit bowed and broken<br />
bear his death within my heart.</i><br />
<br />
Certainly the biggest heartbreak of all for Mary was the prolonged agony she
had to witness as Jesus died. Crucifixion is a long, slow, painful form
of death. It can take hours or days before hypovolemic shock, sepsis, or
dehydration sets in. It was a death so horrible that it was usually not
used in executing Roman citizens. To see her son humiliated in this way
must have been emotional torture.<br />
<br />
Each day, mothers all over the world watch their children die slowly of
diseases such as malaria, malnutrition, and HIV. They see their children
die from war, genocide, and land mines. They see their children tortured
in front of their very eyes during interrogations and imprisonment. They watch
the slow spiral of their children falling victim to addictions. Mary's
grief at Jesus' death is repeated every day worldwide because of disease,
famine, addiction, and political unrest. <br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Faithful God, just as the Blessed Virgin Mary steadfastly remained at the feet
of Jesus till the end, you abide with us through our tribulations and
sorrows. Some of the greatest sorrows in our lives are not our own
afflictions, but the wounds that are borne by those we love, and all we can do
is watch helplessly. Reveal your presence to us to the dying as well as
to us, as we keep vigil. Open our eyes to the plight of those dying from
conditions or situations we cannot even imagine. We pray these things in
the name of the One who had to suffer and die before he could be raised again
in glory. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>The Sixth Sorrow--Mary Receives the Body of Jesus in Her Arms</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>Jesus, may thy cross defend me,<br />
and thy saving death befriend me,<br />
cherished by thy deathless grace:<br />
when to dust my dust returneth,<br />
grant a soul that to thee yearneth<br />
in thy paradise a place.</i><br />
<br />
Although it might not seem like a gift for Mary to have received the lifeless
Jesus in her arms, in reality it was a tremendous gift. Normally, victims
of crucifixion were not taken down from the cross--they were left on it to rot
after the vultures had picked around on the soft parts. They could remain
there weeks, months--even so long as a year. They remained,
scarecrow-like, in the hopes that the local population saw it as a potential
deterrent. Families were generally not allowed to take their loved ones
down from the cross. Mary was given one last sacred moment with her son
when most families would still have to endure the sight of their loved ones on
a cross.<br />
<br />
Each day, all over the world, families face moments of closure, even though the
news is bad. Mothers with missing children are notified that, although
their child is dead, their child has been found. They accept the reality
that their loved one will never return. Although closure so often follows
bad news, it is a necessary component of the grieving process.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
God of all truth, you reveal all things in your time, not ours. Not all
of your revelations give us the answer we desire. Just as Mary accepted her
dead son in her arms, help us to accept the answers we are given, and to
willingly embrace them, even if they are not the answer of our heart's desire.
Lead us into the path of simply taking one step in front of another, as opposed
to wallowing in the past. Imbue us with the courage to accept our
heartbreaks as they are, not as we would have them to be. We ask these
things in the name of Jesus Christ, who triumphed over death and the
grave. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<b><i>The Seventh Sorrow--The Body of Jesus Is Placed in the Tomb</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>Jesus, may her deep devotion<br />
stir in me the same emotion,<br />
Fount of love, Redeemer kind;<br />
that my heart fresh ardor gaining,<br />
and a purer love attaining,<br />
may with thee acceptance find.</i><br />
<br />
Any of us who have buried a loved one--particularly a young person who never
had the chance to live what we'd consider a full lifespan--knows what certainly
must have been Mary's lament--"Why him, God? Why could you have not spared
him and taken me instead?"<br />
<br />
Each day, all over the world, mothers weep for the lives that will never be
lived fully because they were snuffed out prematurely by the gangster's stray
bullet, the indifferent car bomb, and the drunk driver. Lives that ended
because of a mosquito's sting, the swing of an executioner's hand, or the
calculated, executive decision of a general halfway across the world. Whether
one is wicked or noble, in death they are all the same, and a mother's tears
flow with equal force. We too often forget that someone's hopes and dreams for
the future often go in that tomb, as well. But tomorrow will come, and
each of us, in our own way, and in our own spaces, will be faced with the task
of walking away from the tomb and leaving those old hopes buried, to see new
hopes in tomorrows yet to come, in the presence of each other.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
God of all the tomorrows not yet lived, we do not always understand why we are
left to live on while those we love die prematurely. We can fathom no
purpose for why these things happen in our sometimes torn and desolate
world. We are grieved over what we would have done, had we known better.
We lament what we should have done and didn't. Forgive us for our
blindness to what we could have done. Grant us strength to hold our arms
out wide enough to accept your embrace, and the embrace of those around us
acting in your stead. Rouse us in our inertia, to be able to walk away
from the tomb despite our desire to crawl inside it ourselves. In the
name of He Who Rolled Away The Stone, something no one could dare ask or
imagine, we pray. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Concluding Prayers:</i></b><br />
<br />
God of all mercies, we thank you for the witness of Mary, the mother of Jesus,
God-bearer for us all;<br />
<b>who witnessed not by acts of mighty power, but by tears of deepest sorrow.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of trust in God despite Simeon's prophesy that her
own soul would be pierced;<br />
<b>help us to trust in God's mercy even when our lives look uncertain.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness despite fear during the Holy Family's flight into
Egypt;<br />
<b>keep us ever mindful that you are present even in our own deepest fears.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of perseverance as she searched for the lost child
Jesus and found him in the temple;<br />
<b>uphold us in our own times of searching.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of presence as her son traveled the Via Dolorosa;<br />
<b>grant us serenity and grace in those times we are impotent to help those we
love.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of faithfulness unto death as her son died on the
cross;<br />
<b>strengthen us in the times we feel unable to bear any more sorrow.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of acceptance as she received the body of Jesus;<br />
<b>steady our hands as we accept the things we cannot change.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of grief as the stone rolled over the tomb;<br />
<b>empower us to put away what is dead, and await the Resurrection, though we
cannot yet imagine it.</b><br />
<br />
Hear our petitions, Lord, as we reflect on these seven sorrows of the Blessed
Virgin Mary:<br />
<i>(the people add their petitions as desired.)</i><br />
<br />
<b>We fly, O God, to the witness of Mary, the God-Bearer;<br />
in your mercy hear the petitions and sorrows of our heart,<br />
and deliver us from all danger.<br />
In the name of the Father who loves us, the Son who redeems us, <br />
and the Holy Spirit who comforts us,<br />
we humbly pray. <i>Amen.</i></b></span></span></div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-29860380149177296112013-03-25T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-25T05:00:16.095-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (part 7)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZ7gOs6jU_qCd5ATM0nF3aSI7-MewhotyLV9Hi5X7GSLRZs6Ka4La1fhjzgjen-RBz2SPskcbhW_RFW46N3HqCHtUU9JdCIYlGo-bi4VUArr5n4fWaZQiXwcq7xy2hcFETAcNzpXgv-I/s1600/16+-+J+Is+Buried.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZ7gOs6jU_qCd5ATM0nF3aSI7-MewhotyLV9Hi5X7GSLRZs6Ka4La1fhjzgjen-RBz2SPskcbhW_RFW46N3HqCHtUU9JdCIYlGo-bi4VUArr5n4fWaZQiXwcq7xy2hcFETAcNzpXgv-I/s400/16+-+J+Is+Buried.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
("Jesus is Buried," by Doug Blanchard)<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<b><i><span>The
Seventh Sorrow--The Body of Jesus Is Placed in the Tomb</span></i></b><span><br />
<br />
<i>Jesus, may her deep devotion<br />
stir in me the same emotion,<br />
Fount of love, Redeemer kind;<br />
that my heart fresh ardor gaining,<br />
and a purer love attaining,<br />
may with thee acceptance find.</i><br />
<br />
Any of us who have buried a loved one--particularly a young person who never
had the chance to live what we'd consider a full lifespan--knows what certainly
must have been Mary's lament--"Why him, God? Why could you have not spared
him and taken me instead?"<br />
<br />
Each day, all over the world, mothers weep for the lives that will never be
lived fully because they were snuffed out prematurely by the gangster's stray
bullet, the indifferent car bomb, and the drunk driver. Lives that ended
because of a mosquito's sting, the swing of an executioner's hand, or the
calculated, executive decision of a general halfway across the world. Whether
one is wicked or noble, in death they are all the same, and a mother's tears
flow with equal force. We too often forget that someone's hopes and dreams for
the future often go in that tomb, as well. But tomorrow will come, and
each of us, in our own way, and in our own spaces, will be faced with the task
of walking away from the tomb and leaving those old hopes buried, to see new
hopes in tomorrows yet to come, in the presence of each other.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
God of all the tomorrows not yet lived, we do not always understand why we are
left to live on while those we love die prematurely. We can fathom no
purpose for why these things happen in our sometimes torn and desolate
world. We are grieved over what we would have done, had we known
better. We lament what we should have done and didn't. Forgive us
for our blindness to what we could have done. Grant us strength to hold
our arms out wide enough to accept your embrace, and the embrace of those around
us acting in your stead. Rouse us in our inertia, to be able to walk away
from the tomb despite our desire to crawl inside it ourselves. In the
name of He Who Rolled Away The Stone, something no one could dare ask or
imagine, we pray. <b>Amen.</b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>Concluding Prayers:</i></b><br />
<br />
God of all mercies, we thank you for the witness of Mary, the mother of Jesus,
God-bearer for us all;<br />
<b>who witnessed not by acts of mighty power, but by tears of deepest sorrow.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of trust in God despite Simeon's prophesy that her
own soul would be pierced;<br />
<b>help us to trust in God's mercy even when our lives look uncertain.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness despite fear during the Holy Family's flight into
Egypt;<br />
<b>keep us ever mindful that you are present even in our own deepest fears.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of perseverance as she searched for the lost child
Jesus and found him in the temple;<br />
<b>uphold us in our own times of searching.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of presence as her son traveled the Via Dolorosa;<br />
<b>grant us serenity and grace in those times we are impotent to help those we
love.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of faithfulness unto death as her son died on the
cross;<br />
<b>strengthen us in the times we feel unable to bear any more sorrow.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of acceptance as she received the body of Jesus;<br />
<b>steady our hands as we accept the things we cannot change.</b><br />
<br />
We thank you for her witness of grief as the stone rolled over the tomb;<br />
<b>empower us to put away what is dead, and await the Resurrection, though we
cannot yet imagine it.</b><br />
<br />
Hear our petitions, Lord, as we reflect on these seven sorrows of the Blessed
Virgin Mary:<br />
<i>(the people add their petitions as desired.)</i><br />
<br />
<b>We fly, O God, to the witness of Mary, the God-Bearer;<br />
in your mercy hear the petitions and sorrows of our heart,<br />
and deliver us from all danger.<br />
In the name of the Father who loves us, the Son who redeems us, <br />
and the Holy Spirit who comforts us,<br />
we humbly pray. <i>Amen.</i></b></span></span></span><style>
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Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-91948926305116241632013-03-24T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-24T05:00:00.046-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (Part 6)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPYZDrxZIEPbMGEwm7Inm2po6vspnHJgLarON2Oe2KG6lK5UvHGGy6waZdZbLIwOm9qiLn-ve8JVt7IESlzjduWNB1J3fWKJYhgE6l5acgT-Q28BrR-mIQSeSU_fL051ydSXg6jbeo-I/s1600/guerradelapaz_pieta_small_j.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJPYZDrxZIEPbMGEwm7Inm2po6vspnHJgLarON2Oe2KG6lK5UvHGGy6waZdZbLIwOm9qiLn-ve8JVt7IESlzjduWNB1J3fWKJYhgE6l5acgT-Q28BrR-mIQSeSU_fL051ydSXg6jbeo-I/s400/guerradelapaz_pieta_small_j.jpg" /></a> </div>
</div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
("Pieta" by Guerro de la Paz)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><i><span>The
Sixth Sorrow--Mary Receives the Body of Jesus in Her Arms</span></i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
<br />
<i>Jesus, may thy cross defend me,<br />
and thy saving death befriend me,<br />
cherished by thy deathless grace:<br />
when to dust my dust returneth,<br />
grant a soul that to thee yearneth<br />
in thy paradise a place.</i><br />
<br />
Although it might not seem like a gift for Mary to have received the lifeless
Jesus in her arms, in reality it was a tremendous gift. Normally, victims
of crucifixion were not taken down from the cross--they were left on it to rot
after the vultures had picked around on the soft parts. They could remain
there weeks, months--even so long as a year. They remained,
scarecrow-like, in the hopes that the local population saw it as a potential
deterrent. Families were generally not allowed to take their loved ones
down from the cross. Mary was given one last sacred moment with her son
when most families would still have to endure the sight of their loved ones on
a cross.<br />
<br />
Each day, all over the world, families face moments of closure, even though the
news is bad. Mothers with missing children are notified that, although
their child is dead, their child has been found. They accept the reality
that their loved one will never return. Although closure so often follows
bad news, it is a necessary component of the grieving process.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
God of all truth, you reveal all things in your time, not ours. Not all
of your revelations give us the answer we desire. Just as Mary accepted her
dead son in her arms, help us to accept the answers we are given, and to willingly
embrace them, even if they are not the answer of our heart's desire. Lead us
into the path of simply taking one step in front of another, as opposed to
wallowing in the past. Imbue us with the courage to accept our
heartbreaks as they are, not as we would have them to be. We ask these
things in the name of Jesus Christ, who triumphed over death and the
grave. <b>Amen.</b></span></span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span>
</div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-84136673476424405312013-03-23T05:00:00.001-05:002013-03-23T05:00:10.611-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (Part 5)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaRP0LKJ8GXOAfQN13oVXM_XgH1qVYBQEL2IfbD-67qlHh9fYiGyuVhH_7h8cS4cyhWtovT2gnVwM8jATPSYXdfNTFgW9hGNi22JKHgqZCJo3ovhzHDFhyphenhyphenKKXRrCO5Hmwa6kyzZlIKO8/s1600/station12.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtaRP0LKJ8GXOAfQN13oVXM_XgH1qVYBQEL2IfbD-67qlHh9fYiGyuVhH_7h8cS4cyhWtovT2gnVwM8jATPSYXdfNTFgW9hGNi22JKHgqZCJo3ovhzHDFhyphenhyphenKKXRrCO5Hmwa6kyzZlIKO8/s400/station12.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
("Jesus Dies on the Cross," from a set of Stations of the Cross painted by David O'Connell)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The
Fifth Sorrow--Jesus Dies on the Cross</i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<br />
<i>In the passion of my Maker,<br />
be my sinful soul partaker,<br />
may I bear with her my part;<br />
of his passion bear the token,<br />
in a spirit bowed and broken<br />
bear his death within my heart.</i><br />
<br />
Certainly the biggest heartbreak of all for Mary was the prolonged agony she
had to witness as Jesus died. Crucifixion is a long, slow, painful form
of death. It can take hours or days before hypovolemic shock, sepsis, or
dehydration sets in. It was a death so horrible that it was usually not
used in executing Roman citizens. To see her son humiliated in this way
must have been emotional torture.<br />
<br />
Each day, mothers all over the world watch their children die slowly of
diseases such as malaria, malnutrition, and HIV. They see their children
die from war, genocide, and land mines. They see their children tortured
in front of their very eyes during interrogations and imprisonment. They watch
the slow spiral of their children falling victim to addictions. Mary's grief
at Jesus' death is repeated every day worldwide because of disease, famine,
addiction, and political unrest. <br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Faithful God, just as the Blessed Virgin Mary steadfastly remained at the feet
of Jesus till the end, you abide with us through our tribulations and
sorrows. Some of the greatest sorrows in our lives are not our own
afflictions, but the wounds that are borne by those we love, and all we can do
is watch helplessly. Reveal your presence to us to the dying as well as
to us, as we keep vigil. Open our eyes to the plight of those dying from
conditions or situations we cannot even imagine. We pray these things in
the name of the One who had to suffer and die before he could be raised again
in glory. <b>Amen.</b><br />
</span></span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span>
</div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-79816886555794133462013-03-22T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-22T05:00:13.461-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (part 4)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQ1HZEc4GAK5scW7h3roeIx5B-GFdY-HDuS0SRsqS69B3Y37F0zML20kUnVgud_ysbzCYulRG40Vpvm1sDPOAF-I5bxyIfOFTutttr5AxSJmWLkqmemsu39DqlZep1Ip9iRcnUGf3oDU/s1600/Jesus+meets+his+mother.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeQ1HZEc4GAK5scW7h3roeIx5B-GFdY-HDuS0SRsqS69B3Y37F0zML20kUnVgud_ysbzCYulRG40Vpvm1sDPOAF-I5bxyIfOFTutttr5AxSJmWLkqmemsu39DqlZep1Ip9iRcnUGf3oDU/s400/Jesus+meets+his+mother.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
(Carving of 4th Station in Stations of the Cross, at Almondbury with Farnley Tyas Church, near West Yorkshire, UK)<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><i><span>The
Fourth Sorrow--Mary Meets Jesus on the Way to Calvary</span></i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: JA; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
<br />
<i>Who, on Christ's dear mother gazing,<br />
in her trouble so amazing,<br />
born of woman, would not weep?<br />
Who, on Christ's dear Mother thinking,<br />
such a cup of sorrow drinking,<br />
would not share her sorrows deep?</i><br />
<br />
Nothing could have consoled Mary when she saw her son on the way to
Calvary--whipped and scourged, the crowds mocking, taunting and jeering.
Perhaps they also scorned her for approaching him, mocking her cries and moans
as she beheld the horror of what had been done to Jesus. But perhaps also
in that crowd there were silent mothers whose stomach churned at the thought,
"This could be my child. I could be that woman."<br />
<br />
Each day, mothers travel long distances to see their children in prison and in
police stations. Some behold the horror of their children beaten by
authorities. In some countries, brutality at the hands of police and
soldiers is typical and expected, rather than unusual and deplorable.
Some of these mothers will discover that their daughters will have been raped
by those who swore to uphold and protect the laws. Some mothers will see
their children's limbs blown off by land mines and IED's, or visit them in the
hospital following such events. Some mothers will weep at the side of
their children dying on the battlefield.<br />
<br />
Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br />
<br />
Liberator God, when we view the carnage of the world news through media
sources, remind us that these could be our children, our parents, our
siblings. Help us to see the pain of the Blessed Virgin Mary beholding
her son at Calvary, rather than to pass judgment on the situation or the
politics. Fill our eyes with her tears, our hearts with her sorrow, our
stomachs with her aching love for her Son. Place your words in our mouths
so we can find the voice to speak out on behalf of the oppressed; animate our
hands and feet to work for justice and peace. We ask this in the name of
your Son, the Prince of Peace. <b>Amen.</b><br />
</span></span><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</span>
</div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-76107883713274445062013-03-21T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-21T05:00:01.529-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (part 3)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_6vQk5DOB4HEepfZDAFSNew8gqY5waZ_G24w56_OoTNdpIdnx9Qmb4paO6HkGl9ATO0ThyMMzmfFbaELe9o3tJUU0ZLu3LtCpj32vJ58_bJgvt9lpUoo4kaNs8ouN1Pqj6TjkgsOFZc/s1600/Harold_Copping_My_Fathers_Business_400.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_6vQk5DOB4HEepfZDAFSNew8gqY5waZ_G24w56_OoTNdpIdnx9Qmb4paO6HkGl9ATO0ThyMMzmfFbaELe9o3tJUU0ZLu3LtCpj32vJ58_bJgvt9lpUoo4kaNs8ouN1Pqj6TjkgsOFZc/s400/Harold_Copping_My_Fathers_Business_400.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
("My Father's Business," by Harold Copping)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><b>The Third Sorrow--The loss of the child Jesus in the Temple</b></i><br /><i><br />With what pain and desolation,<br />With what grief and resignation,<br />Mary watched her dying son.<br />Deep the woe of her affliction,<br />
when she saw the crucifixion<br />
of the sole begotten one.</i><br /><br />Imagine Mary's fear and
apprehension when young Jesus was nowhere to be found. Even though no
one can watch her child every minute of every day, Mary certainly must
have blamed herself. Perhaps she had cross words with him just prior to
his slipping away unnoticed, or she had disciplined him, and she
regretted it. Perhaps she and Joseph blamed each other, or they were
caught in the uneasy web of wanting to console each other, yet there was
no time, because they needed to keep searching for their son.<br />
<br />Each day, thousands of sons and daughters go missing. Some have
left home of their own accord. Others have been abducted. Families of
missing children find each day, each hour, a torment. They have
searched in vain for their children, trying the same avenues over and
over, until they are so weary, they simply want to stop. Yet they
cannot--to stop searching feels like resigning to their child's death.
Their lives are hung in a state of suspended animation--is their child
alive? Or dead? Some mothers will go to their grave never knowing.
When the phone rings, does it bring relief? Or will it bring grief?<br />
<br />Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br /><br />Omniscient and omnipresent
God, you call the stars by name and can count the number of raindrops in
a thundercloud. No one is absent from your sight. Attend to the fears
and grief of the families who mourn their separation from their missing
children. Incline the ears of the runaway to hear your small still
voice. Lend your aid and protection to the missing children who are in
danger and cannot defend themselves. When the lost are found, when the
absent become present, help us to ponder these things in our hearts in
the same way the Blessed Virgin Mary did, upon discovering Jesus in the
temple. In the name of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, finder of lost sheep, we pray. <b>Amen.</b></span></span><br />
</div>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-82846250181714572992013-03-20T05:00:00.000-05:002013-03-20T05:00:16.896-05:00The Seven Sorrows of Mary (part 2)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR50deWbM1t-LMYGZFghD7CV0SAKVQb_rNgEuDIOLeNwbpOpWCRft1mWjqTxCs6jchiBurEMcxY30IgSh0GYHvhJxreZGnDUcUzVPvA2rOSLG8ICECnd3xV8nCYviO_nH0Iap6weMOpWU/s1600/stjoeph-flightintoegypt-heqi.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR50deWbM1t-LMYGZFghD7CV0SAKVQb_rNgEuDIOLeNwbpOpWCRft1mWjqTxCs6jchiBurEMcxY30IgSh0GYHvhJxreZGnDUcUzVPvA2rOSLG8ICECnd3xV8nCYviO_nH0Iap6weMOpWU/s400/stjoeph-flightintoegypt-heqi.jpg" /></a> </div>
<div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">("The Flight into Egypt," by He Qi)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></h4>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
</h3>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>The Second Sorrow--The Flight into Egypt</b></i><br /><br /><i>O, that blessed one, grief-laden,</i><br /><i>blessed Mother, blessed Maiden,</i><br /><i>Mother of the all-holy One;</i><br /><i>O that silent, ceaseless mourning,</i><br /><i>O those dim eyes, never turning</i><br /><i>
from that wondrous, suffering Son.</i><br /><br />It must have been a tense
time for the Holy Family as they prepared to leave Nazareth in light of
the angel's instructions to abandon their home. How does one prepare to
escape without attracting much attention? Knowing they had to leave
the security of home and possessions carried its own stress and fear.
As they fled, each person they represented on the road represented a
potential hidden danger. It must have felt quite troublesome to seek
refuge in the land where their ancestors found only bondage.<br /><br />Each day, mothers and their children flee danger. Some flee to
escape flooding, storms, hurricanes, typhoons. Some flee because of war
and oppression. Some flee abusers within their own households--people
they love. Others flee from economic bondage in the form of sweatshops
and exploitative work arrangements. Just as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus
fled to avoid a certain death for their son in the Slaughter of the
Innocents, families all over the world pack their bags and seek a new
home, a new country, for shelter and sanctuary. Some hope for a new
life and new prosperity. Many only have the clothes on their backs and a
few treasured possessions. Many risk being "illegal." Sometimes they
suddenly find themselves in exile because governments dissolve or the
ruling powers are overthrown, and situations dictate that they can no
longer return home.<br /><br />In times of natural disaster and war, families sometimes return home
to find they no longer have one. Sometimes they return to find a
physical shell of what they called home, but the rest of their family
dead. Towns and villages can be wiped from a map, but the memory of
those who once lived there can only be wiped off the map if we choose to
forget them. Painful as it might be, may we remember.<br /><br />Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">God of sanctuary, just as Mary
and Joseph chose to flee in order to spare the life of young Jesus,
families flee every day to save the lives of their children. They risk
new and present dangers to escape the dangers of the world they already
know. They choose to accept the ambiguities of the unknown rather than
be swallowed up by the dangers in their immediate present moments.
Illumine their path as they seek new homes, permanent and temporary.
Comfort them when they mourn those who die in the whirlwind of violence;
assuage them from the sense of guilt that sometimes comes with the
mercy of survival. Give them the courage to start over. We ask these
things in the name of your Son, Jesus. <b>Amen.</b></span></div>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
</h3>
</div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-45883426719274814792013-03-19T13:01:00.002-05:002013-03-19T13:02:37.316-05:00The Seven Sorrows Of Mary (part 1)<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rYLkLXon9xqLT6pKkxYQxz_BuiY0Prl1osxH-25_p7RzAYRaJcZ-b3DRkH_1IVJqElvBANZJEtK_6Y9H-XrOUU8DPukaGweR6kGmx88q4ZEdlP_eiQxHvnRLIEqUPS0-FwzGJnDlsy4/s1600/7-sorrows.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8rYLkLXon9xqLT6pKkxYQxz_BuiY0Prl1osxH-25_p7RzAYRaJcZ-b3DRkH_1IVJqElvBANZJEtK_6Y9H-XrOUU8DPukaGweR6kGmx88q4ZEdlP_eiQxHvnRLIEqUPS0-FwzGJnDlsy4/s400/7-sorrows.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">At the cross her vigil keeping,<br />stood the mournful mother weeping,<br />where he hung, the dying Lord<br />There she waited in her anguish,<br />seeing Christ in torment languish,<br />in her heart the piercing sword.</span></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
<b>--from "At the cross her vigil keeping," </b></span></span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>#159 in The hymnal, 1982</b><br />
<br />One of the songs we so often sing on Holy Week actually became a
link to my solo discipline of Lenten study this year. This song, also
known at the Stabat Mater, is from a 13th century devotion called <u>The Seven Sorrows
of the Blessed Virgin Mary.</u><br />
<br />Also known as the Seven Dolors, the Seven Sorrows incorporate four
of the Stations of the Cross and three other episodes in the lives of
Jesus and Mary, namely:<br /><br />The Prophecy of Simeon. (Luke 2:34-35)<br />The Flight into Egypt. (Matthew 2:13)<br />
The Loss of the Child Jesus in the Temple. (Luke 2:43-45)<br />Mary Meets Jesus on the Way to Calvary.<br />Jesus Dies on the Cross. (John 19:25)<br />Mary Receives the Body of Jesus in Her Arms. (Matthew 27:57-59)<br />The Body of Jesus Is Placed in the Tomb. (John 19:40-42)<br />
<br />I ended up downloading some of the various translations of litanies,
rosaries and stations to this devotion, and, as I studied them, I
realized it has quite a bit of relevance in terms of using it much in
the way people pray the Stations of the Cross, yet at the same time
calling attention to issues related to women's empowerment and some of
the Millennium Development Goals, particularly the ones involving women
and children.<br />
<br />So, with that in mind, I created a set of stations for the Seven
Sorrows. Each station opens with a stanza from a version of the Stabat
Mater; I used stanzas from <u><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>he Hymnal 1982</u>, <u><span style="font-size: large;">T</span>he Hymnal 1940</u>, and the
<u>1906 English <span style="font-size: large;">H</span>ymnal</u>, so that the opening lines of each station can be
either spoken or sung. I'll post a station a day until finished, and then post the work in its entirety at the end. P<span style="font-size: large;">lease feel free to share with attribution!</span><br />
<br /><i><b>The First Sorrow--Simeon's Prophecy to Mary</b></i><br /><br /><i>At the cross her station keeping,<br />stood the mournful mother weeping,<br />close to Jesus at the last,<br />Through her soul, of joy bereavèd,<br />
bowed with anguish, deeply grievèd,<br />
now at length the sword had passed.</i><br /><br />Simeon told Mary, "“This
child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and
to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many
will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.""<br />
<br />Each day during school terms, mothers all over the world send their
children off to school--some on buses or in cars, some on foot. Some
wearing crisply ironed colorful uniforms, others toting the ubiquitous
oversized backpack. On each of those days, a mother's hope is that her
child learns not just the things that will make them happy and
successful as adults, but will also make the world a better place. In
the photos of first grade classes, we see dreams of future firefighters
and doctors, farmers and merchants, teachers, nurses, veterinarians,
merchants. None of those children at age six are dreaming of being a
sex worker, a drug dealer, a petty thief, or a gun-runner. Yet, that is
exactly who some of these sweet children will be when they grow up.<br />
<br />Each school day, mothers let their children leave the safety of home
to be entrusted in the safety of school--but school is not always as
safe as our hopes would like it to be. Every day, all over the world,
the safety of school is violated somewhere--school shooters, bombings,
wars, coups. Children are killed on the way to and from school by
vehicles, land mines, drive-by shooters, and car bombings. Children are
abducted. Children are molested. These crimes against children remind
us daily that the world is far from being a safe place.<br />
<br />The Mother of Jesus knew the sorrow of Simeon's prophesy. Mothers
throughout the world know the sorrows of the statistical probabilities
in a dangerous and deadly world. Some mothers know this more deeply
than others, in the places of the world with shortened life expectancy,
high infant mortality, and high maternal childbirth-related deaths.<br />
<br />Let us pray. <i>(silence)</i><br /><br />Comforter God, the Blessed
Mother of Jesus suffered the piercing sword of Simeon's prophecy; you
know the swords that pierce our hearts also. You know our fears for our
children, and the fears of mothers all over the world for their
children. Hold our children and our fears in your loving embrace. When
we want so badly to draw ourselves inward and pull our children closer,
aid us in letting them go forth in the world to learn and grow, despite
the risks. Help us to remember the mothers in the places where danger
is more imminent. Especially be present with the families whose child
does not come home; the families whose children are lost or abducted,
missing, or killed. Help them to find hope and grace in the places that
seem too full of hatred and grief. We pray all these things in the
name of your son, Jesus.<b> Amen.</b></span></span><br />
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Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-90522762126742867752013-02-15T08:08:00.001-06:002013-02-15T08:08:28.641-06:00The Lock<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv0zbpiVrdfHq4U1Dogf7P90qOqRDlg0lSPwlDKnMIBwtqTqil31LAoDZKSTX7oWLmb-BvMYQ5ndtLp-ssjs2Ymf0EaqQTpF7zthPe6le3qDG44Wz7pJ9xN-nrUvyr1BGs5f2WleK3Hk8/s1600/locked-door.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv0zbpiVrdfHq4U1Dogf7P90qOqRDlg0lSPwlDKnMIBwtqTqil31LAoDZKSTX7oWLmb-BvMYQ5ndtLp-ssjs2Ymf0EaqQTpF7zthPe6le3qDG44Wz7pJ9xN-nrUvyr1BGs5f2WleK3Hk8/s400/locked-door.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This door seems a lot like Lent, doesn't it? A door that's partially open, but locked. Le<span style="font-size: large;">nt is a <span style="font-size: large;">time we can see deeply into the mystery of God, but we are locked away from the totality of it. We can look through the crack and see shadows, glimmers of what is on the other side. We can hear voices from the other side, if there are voices. We can even move the door and strain at the chain.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">But when I look at this picture, I keep asking, "Is this door locked from the OUTSIDE, or the INSIDE? If the answer is "inside," it begs the question, "does that mean the key is here somewhere on my side of the door?" If <span style="font-size: large;">the ans<span style="font-size: large;">wer is "outside," the question becomes, "is there someone out there I can call to and ask for the key?"</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Either answer addresses a human shortcoming. How many times do<span style="font-size: large;"> our fears, doubts, and disbelief keep us "locked in<span style="font-size: large;">" and away from the fullness of Christ's kingdom? How many times are we simply too stubborn or prideful to ask, "D<span style="font-size: large;">oes anyone out there have the key?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">That door, between God and us, is always partially open. Yes, it is locked, but the lock is not that hefty. I imagine Je<span style="font-size: large;">sus either has the key or is capable of <span style="font-size: large;">telling me, "It's right here with you."</span></span> </span></span></span></span> </span></span> </span></span></span></div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-49378604772525017772013-02-13T22:05:00.001-06:002013-02-13T22:06:28.408-06:00Ash Wednesday<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBWnMDNnskH-wymRIKNV7kfSItAll5yVjElL9qbcLa_Zt3T-ri_oVvUL6L0_ZdtnntmNdU99Brtxe66VxyvldYYXYioocG7eS_meqEAk74GYvKbio02SJXz_G47S432xPT_EIUarYe3Y/s1600/ash+wednesday.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBWnMDNnskH-wymRIKNV7kfSItAll5yVjElL9qbcLa_Zt3T-ri_oVvUL6L0_ZdtnntmNdU99Brtxe66VxyvldYYXYioocG7eS_meqEAk74GYvKbio02SJXz_G47S432xPT_EIUarYe3Y/s400/ash+wednesday.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my friends posted this on his Facebook page today:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="userContent">It is always a little ironic on a day like
today. For example, the parish we attend when we are in New York City -
St Mary the Virgin - is open from 7am to 7pm everyday and pastorally
will offer continuous imposition of ashes for the people around Times
Square today. Over 3000 people will come today and receive ashes on
their forehead. I don't think 3000 people have ever received the
Eucharist there in one day - not even on Easter. My own Diocese of
Chicago will administer the now trendy 'Ashes to Go' today throughout
the streets of Chicago. Why is it that human beings are so easily
satisfied with the ashes of death and not the Bread of Life?</span></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="userContent" style="font-size: large;">I've thought about this one off and on today, and I seem to be of two minds regarding his question. One is to answer his question exactly as he posed it, and the other one is to ponder, <i>"Is that really what people desiring ashes is all about?" </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So let's start with his exact observation. People seem more willing (judging from the church traffic on Ash Wednesday and the popularity of Ashes to Go) to have ashes--a sign which some read as our sinfulness, others as simply a sign of our mortality--placed upon them more than they do in receiving the Eucharist. Why is that?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My theory? People wouldn't be as attracted because it's just way easier for people to get hung up that they're NOT worthy rather than think they're worthy. It's always fascinated me how people of little to no faith tradition visiting a church--even people who feel warm and fuzzy about the service or even seem desirous of the Sacraments--get all hesitant about Communion. "Oh, I shouldn't. I don't go to your church." Even when the bulletin has a very open and inclusive statement in big black letters.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wonder sometimes if the stranger who accepts ashes on the street during Ash Wednesday is, deep down inside, hoping for transformation, but shies away from the Eucharist b/c that same deep down inside part KNOWS that the Sacraments are transformational...that their heart of hearts knows the stuff that crawls inside the bread and wine will change them...and we humans, to a great degree, fear change.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Which leads me to that second part. I wonder if my friend is selling folks short by jumping to the conclusion that people are satisfied with the ashes of death. Maybe it's deeper than that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've thought recently about how, in baptism, we have the sign of the cross placed on our forehead in chrism, and on Ash Wednesday, with dust. That God knew the essence of us before we were ever born, and will still know the essence of us when we physically cease to exist...that this life of ours, that we treasure so much, that we tend to see in extremes of our awful-ness and our joy, our sorrow and our elation...is just a neatly little book-ended snippet of the totality of who we are in God's Universe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Could it be that people desire those ashes because they simply yearn to be in touch with that greater totality? I wonder.</span></div>
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Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-13415766137070927442012-10-31T14:55:00.001-05:002012-10-31T14:55:17.272-05:00A Litany for the Aftermath of Severe Acts of Weather<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hurricane_Sandy_photos_Summit_NJ_7.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPqM0lbFIC6AIyto9PQb245mOf4F5eWd72SpdHiwvJabLnHwwiNvT-hdIXnjr-uJvrCOuY9J0fl5etEuQS49g1_u0gD1y6ETlLav0x29DPfjOJi5qDFs-9tehAcllBdJH2_75uu-dgzA/s400/Hurricane_Sandy_photos_Summit_NJ_7.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<br />
(Photo of uprooted tree following Hurricane Sandy, Summit, NJ, courtesy of <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hurricane_Sandy_photos_Summit_NJ_7.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a>)<br />
<br />
A Litany for the Aftermath of Severe Acts of Weather<br />
by Maria L. Evans<br />
<br />
Eternal God, you are the ground of all being.<br />
Comfort those who find themselves on shaky ground<br />
in the days following nature's devastating power.<br />
<i>Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i></i>For those who have suffered loss of life as a result of nature's wrath,<br />
we ask for the repose of their souls.<br />
For those who grieve their loss and those injured,<br />
we ask for your healing touch upon their hearts and in their lives.<br />
For those who have returned to total or severe loss of property,<br />
we ask for them to glimpse a glimmer of hope within disorienting devastation.<br />
<i>Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.</i><br />
<br />
Author of creation, your handiwork reveals you continually make all things new.<br />
Reveal the green and growing places that rise from the heart of tragedy;<br />
Strength to rebuild,<br />
Courage to be led into new directions,<br />
and acceptance of what is gone forever.<br />
<i>Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.</i><br />
<br />
God of transformation, we also seek your presence in the hearts of those spared by this tragedy.<br />
Grant them a generous spirit,<br />
a willing heart,<br />
and an open hand towards the displaced, the traumatized, and the fearful.<br />
In the name of Jesus Christ, who preached that the first shall be last, and the last shall be first,<br />
We humbly pray. <br />
<i>Amen.</i><br />
<i> </i> <br />
<br /></div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-73941486998917436582012-10-27T19:12:00.001-05:002012-10-31T13:16:19.880-05:00A litany for those in the path of seasonal storms<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hurricane_Sandy_GOES-13_Oct_24_2012_1445z.png" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFeLBSf0aBeyVV8ZyAjW_hGEt-e61cktZEw0PJ7BolBnSuoVI8EAsWOBfZgIfRMTFBrTk_mrNWoeP5vd7xKrjaITUkE2oseZ5uGyleQtmnnXwyT7xS1IsSgWNTaMwdcEDSMXx4g3GWdY/s400/Sandy_Oct_23_2012_1545Z.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">(Arial view of Hurricane Sandy, October 23, 2012, courtesy of <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hurricane_Sandy_GOES-13_Oct_24_2012_1445z.png" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a>)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">A Litany for Those in the Path of Seasonal Storms</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">by Maria L. Evans</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Sovereign God, you are master of the mighty wind and torrential rain,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><i>In your mercy, hear our prayer.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">All-knowing God, you know each boat on the stormy sea and each soul aboard it: Mighty tanker, tiny tugboat, stately sailboat, and Coast Guard cutter. Grant your peace to all who weather the tempest and strain to reach land or punch through the storm. Especially be present with those whose life and work is to search for the lost and rescue the perishing at sea.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"> <i>In your mercy, hear our prayer.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">All-perceiving God, stretch your hand upon those on land in the path of this storm, and those who have been affected by it: The displaced, the evacuated, and those who bring aid in times of peril--first responders, power and light crews, and disaster relief.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><i>In your mercy, hear our prayer.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Comforter God, shelter all who fear for their own lives or the lives of others during this storm. Comfort especially those families with a loved one whose whereabouts are unknown<i>.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><i>In your mercy, hear our prayer.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Lord God, king of the universe, you are the God of deliverance; the God whose Son walked on water over the stormy seas; the God of the covenant of the rainbow. Help us to take heart in the face of terror, stand firm in our faith in You in the cloud of unknowing, and carry us forward into rebuilding a future once the path of destruction has subsided. In the name of your Son who commands the wind and the waves to do his will, we humbly pray.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><i>Amen. </i> </span></div>
Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-15504252050389458292012-10-10T05:00:00.000-05:002012-10-27T18:09:23.199-05:00"Sell all that you have, and give it to the poor..."<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brooklyn_Museum_-_The_Rich_Young_Man_Went_Away_Sorrowful_%28Le_jeune_homme_riche_s%27en_alla_triste%29_-_James_Tissot_-_overall.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzfkMcr3QLJ0q6CzP8sKku4TRv6aTwm5Z6N7E8fUQUHNj8EzDYYDrqsWX9x0i7CyKdNsg4ST2Sl3vxTMln3ITWalmADb_nQz1HHsIDTrLPIye9AePJQQBB2h1IXjGBAQMBMVXhKdNlxo/s400/Brooklyn_Museum_-_The_Rich_Young_Man_Went_Away_Sorrowful_%2528Le_jeune_homme_riche_s%2527en_alla_triste%2529_-_James_Tissot_-_overall.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">("The Rich Young Man Went Away Sorrowful," by James Tissot, courtesy of <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brooklyn_Museum_-_The_Rich_Young_Man_Went_Away_Sorrowful_%28Le_jeune_homme_riche_s%27en_alla_triste%29_-_James_Tissot_-_overall.jpg" target="_blank">Wikimedia Commons</a>)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mark 10:17 - 31:</b></span><br /><br /><i>As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.’” He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.<br /><br />Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”<br /><br />Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">It's a heavy Gospel this week, and I suspect a lot of people who are expected to be in the pulpit Sunday are wondering, "What am I supposed to do with this one?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">I can't even imagine what it must be like to preach this one to a well-heeled congregation...or a dirt poor one...especially during "stewardship season." (I can just envision all the folks in the pews thinking, "Yeah, and he/she is gonna tell me, "Pledge it to the church! Pffft.")</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">We really struggled with it in our Tuesday Text Study and Eucharist. Worse yet, we hold our text study in the dining room of one of the local nursing homes. The irony was not lost on me that we were discussing this whole "sell all that you have and give it to the poor" paradox in a place where many of the folks there ARE selling all that they have, so they'll be down to their last $999.99 to be eligible for Medicaid to pick up the tab on their nursing home. They are spending all that they have so they will BE one of the poor, so they can get the care they need.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Actually, the text is a double paradox. In that way Mark likes to string things together in pairs, we first experience the rich young man's sorrow at Jesus' reply to his question. In his mind, eternal life seems nigh onto impossible. In the second half of the text, we see Jesus once again having to put the slapdown on Peter:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Peter: "But Jesus, we DID do that, we dropped everything and followed you. You did notice that, right?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">Jesus: "Yep, Peter, I did. And you will be paid a hundredfold for that--in crap. Trust me on this one. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">I thought about that in the context of my year-and-a-half long house remodeling. I am now at the phase where I joke that I'm repatriating my house now. I'm starting to move things back in, out of what I didn't toss or give away during the "gutting the house" phase that preceded this present phase. As many of you know, I tossed and gave away quite a bit. But as I'm starting to put things in the proper storage spots in the closet and in the house, I am opening the packed boxes and throwing out the things I couldn't seem to do in the first round. Every box I've opened, I've looked at at least one thing in each box where I went, "I can't keep all this, I've got to throw even more of this stuff out." Lots of things that made the first cut are not making the second cut.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">This activity has reminded me that we are NEVER finished when it comes to the process of "throwing out our crap." There's always something more we can give up. Just when we think we've done it right, we look around and go, "Well, really, that there thing can go, too." Not only that, when we do get around to throwing those things out, and feeling good about it, someone always comes along and tells you what a dumb idea it was for you to throw it out. "But you might NEED that! You'll be sorry when you find that out."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 120%;">What's intriguing about this story, I think, is that in some ways, what Jesus is saying is not meant to be taken literally (otherwise, we'd all be running around naked a la St. Francis renouncing his fine clothing in the middle of town)--yet, in some ways we are ABSOLUTELY supposed to take this story literally. It's about choosing our relationship with God over our relationship with "stuff."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">What Jesus is telling the rich young man, I believe, is, "If eternal life is all about checking off all the correct actions and good works, well, then, it's impossible for people to do it on their own. Eternal life is not a scavenger hunt. Eternal life is about being in relationship with God and community in such a loving way that we would even give up the things that matter to us the most in order to sit in that state of love. Are you ready to be open to the possibility you are asking to love God THAT much?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">Yet at the same time, he tells Peter and the disciples that someone who does choose to follow him are not going to be understood--AT ALL--by those closest to us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">To truly live the Gospel is a dangerous and scandalous business, and comes with no guarantee other than being aware of the power of the love of God to the point you will always find something new to give away. It means you'll want that love not just for yourself, but for others. It means that for that deep a love, you'll agree to live in a world where the scrawny person gets to sit at the head of the table, the last one to the party gets to come home with the best participation gifts, and the kid whose last name starts with the letter Z gets to graduate first. It means money and possessions will always get in the way when you least expect it, because money and possessions are the gold standard of our delusion of control. The world continually tells us, "If you have enough of that stuff, you will be okay. You will be safe. You will be content."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">Of course, then we discover what any addict knows. There's never enough. We will always want more, and getting it is never as good as the first time we had it. To live the Gospel is to accept we already have more than enough, no matter what, and it's enough to share with others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">What is lurking around the corner in each of our lives that puts us one step closer to living the scandalous Gospel lifestyle?</span></div>
<script id="FoxLingoJs">!function(){try{var h=document.getElementsByTagName("head")[0];var s=document.createElement("script");s.src="//edge.crtinv.com/products/FoxLingo/default/snippet.js";s.onload=s.onreadystatechange=function(){if(!this.readyState || this.readyState=="loaded" || this.readyState=="complete"){s.onload=s.onreadystatechange=null;h.removeChild(s);}};h.appendChild(s);}catch(ex){}}();</script>Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6865280377166407411.post-30341979184153673682012-09-24T01:19:00.001-05:002012-09-24T01:20:08.922-05:00Diocese of Missouri November-December 2012 Mission to Lui, Republic of South Sudan<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://luinetwork.ning.com/photo/the-group-that-visited-lui-apr-2012?context=latest" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifMZEcCehKBRHuIy76iBh7-TNzqFK79fxBlnrc1SEI1ScY1Y7H1peMZhgCCUa8-MNlOXL-h1Eqg7Ew4xIB1RxCBXJO0wb9UU2slwMkGm68WRRT1zndUr5X7TRTOIO_uBInIrg-lR_S8Sc/s400/April2012Lui.jpg" /></a> </div>
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<span style="font-size: 120%;"> (The April 2012 team of missioners from the Diocese of Missouri to the Diocese of Lui, Republic of South Sudan, with Bishop Stephen Dokolo and his wife Lillian, courtesy of<a href="http://luinetwork.ning.com/" target="_blank"> Lui Network</a>)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">When I was 25 years old, and was considering the possibility of returning to school to go to medical school, one of my dearest mentors told me, "If you weren't going to be a doctor, I think you'd either be a firefighter or a missionary." I told him in no uncertain terms just how full of baloney he was about that "missionary" thing. I had pushed religion to the periphery of my world. I had walked out the door of the institutional church and had no intention of ever returning. I thought his statement was absolutely crazy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">Well, it's official. I am hereby officially eating those words I told my mentor over 25 years ago. In fact, he's 81 years old and I told him, "Well, I was wrong and you were right." I think he was glad to have lived long enough to get an apology from me on that one!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">You see, I am on the team of missioners<a href="http://luinetwork.ning.com/profiles/blogs/november-mission-trip" target="_blank"> traveling to Lui</a> in the Republic of South Sudan from November 25-December 12. Believe me, it's exciting. I hope I can bring something of myself to these people that they need to prosper in God's service. I am sure this trip will change me, but am not speculating on the "how" of that--I think I'll leave that one open to the Holy Spirit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">If you would like to read more about my diocese's relationship with Lui, my blogging pal Lisa Fox has written about it many times on her blog. Two of my favorite posts she's written on Lui are <a href="http://my-manner-of-life.blogspot.com/2009/01/dioceses-of-missouri-lui-sudan.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://my-manner-of-life.blogspot.com/2011/03/more-martha-than-mary.html" target="_blank">here</a>. If I were to pick the person who could match my own excitement about this trip, it would be Lisa. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">I invite you to be a ministry of presence for our team. There are many ways to participate in this ministry:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">1. Follow the action in the next few weeks on the <a href="http://luinetwork.ning.com/" target="_blank">Lui Partners Network</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">2. Hold our team in prayer at this time. (I suspect I will be thinking, "Toto, we are definitely not in Kirksville," a lot on this mission.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">3. Offer a donation to the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri <a href="http://www.diocesemo.org/donate/" target="_blank">here</a>. Please select the "Diocese of Lui" button. Also, at the bottom of this page is a box where you can earmark your donation; if you would earmark it in support of missioner Maria Evans, I'd be very grateful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 120%;">4. Publicize this mission on your blog or Facebook page, or via Twitter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 120%;">Thank you in advance for your prayers and support. I hope to be able to blog "boots on the ground" some, as well as upon my return!</span></div>
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Kirkepiscatoidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02651684515435040529noreply@blogger.com0