I like the new Episcopal Bishop of this diocese, despite myself. Lest you get too misty-eyed over this, I should point out that I also like President Bush. Now that I've offended three quarters of my newsletter list in two sentences, I will remind the remaining six readers that I don't have to agree with someone to like them. Truth is, I like an odd assortment of people and I'm never exactly sure why. No, I'm not one of those people who "just loves everybody." I'm as convinced as you are that the world is fraught with idiots and jerks. However, I know I'm supposed to "love one another" as the boss says, and I'm always grateful when a genuine liking springs up in my heart, unbidden.
Having been sprung, as it were, at first meeting, I was interested to see the new Bishop go through her paces when she came to town. Turns out my grandson toddled into town the same weekend. We filled a family pew just before pomp and circumstance flowed down the aisle. The sermon had something to do with grace and legalism, wrapped in poignant stories. I was, I must admit, too enamored of my grandson's fascination with watch and cell phone to pay much attention. This is probably a good thing. I once attended Peter Carota's Bible studies in Spanish because I knew enough of the language to figure out where we were in the Bible, but not enough to get irritated at what he was saying. Bible studies in English don't have this advantage.
Between admiring my grandson and chortling at the comments from the peanut gallery behind us, I was having a fairly fun time. We went up for communion, my grandson in his father's arms. This in itself is enough to give me goose-bumps. Bread in hand, the Bishop approached. Looking at my grandson, she queried his father who said, "He hasn't asked for it yet." After getting parental permission, the Bishop simply asked the babe, "Would you like a piece?" He reached out and took hold.
I wonder now, suffused with joy, if we often hang around waiting for people to ask for Jesus when all the while they are just wishing someone would offer. Would you like a piece?
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I'm deep into reading I Stand By the Door, a biography of Sam Shoemaker written by his wife, Helen. Samuel Shoemaker was a priest, preacher and evangelist, in the mid 20th century. His first job after ordination required him to make 100 calls a month. Placing a premium on individual interviews and small discipleship groups, Sam brought the life of Christ to college students and clergy, created a hub of Christian activity in New York, gathered impressive ecumenical groups and empowered the laity to witness, collect friends and make disciples in the power of the Holy Spirit. The beginnings of AA and other 12-step groups grew out of his ministry. After reading a book like this you can't sit comfortably in a small, greying congregation without wondering, "What are we doing wrong?"
Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say? ~Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
When I was in Jr. High I read a great swath of books about people escaping through the Berlin Wall. I'm not sure why I suddenly burrowed into this section of the library, reading breath taking escapes under the wall along with a smattering of heart rending tales of the holocaust and POW's in the Pacific. Even at that young age, I understood that the bad guys were penning people in and the good guys were escaping. Given this fundamental insight, I blush at the Episcopal Administrative response to those people in parishes and dioceses that overwhelmingly choose to realign with more orthodox Anglicans. I truly thought we were past the age of the inquisition with high ecclesiastic officials attempting to force people to line up with institutional dictates.
Though force can protect in emergency, only justice, fairness, consideration and cooperation can finally lead men to the dawn of eternal peace. ~Dwight D. Eisenhower
Penning dogs in is a different matter--although I once considered moving to Bolinas solely because of the dogs sleeping in the middle of the road. When a car came by, the dogs would get up and lumber out of the way, grumbling at the inconvenience. Lovely. Meanwhile, I have now read five (5!) how-to-train-your-dog books. Mariposa recommended the best of the bunch: The Other End of The Leash by Patricia McConnell. This book has lots of information on how canines and primates are hardwired, along with several hot tips that can make a huge difference in cross-species communication. McConnell also wrote For the Love of a Dog: Understanding Emotion in You and Your Best Friend, which delves even more deeply into research on animal behavior. You would expect with all this rarefied information that my puppy would now sit calmly wagging her tail when you enter The Word Shop. Right. Maybe next month.
Underground nuclear testing, defoliation of the rain forests, toxic waste... Let's put it this way: if the world were a big apartment, we wouldn't get our deposit back. ~John Ross
Susan got some huge shelves donated and then got visions. Encountering zero enthusiasm from me, she motivated an adjunct staff to fix and install the shelves, and painted a corner of our back room in the process. Thanks to Barry, Justin, Nick, Joanne and Lynn we now have an extra bright corner in our corner of the kingdom. I managed to mostly stay out of everyone's way--a rare and difficult task. Now we are shuffling books, which leads to many drifting to the outside free shelf. Come by anytime.
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat. ~Theodore Roosevelt
Jerry donated a sterling box of Bibles, which are now organized onto our new shelves. I grabbed one in both English and Spanish. My theory is that if I read my morning Psalms in Spanish, I might get more fluent. (Of course then I'd have to attend Bible studies in German.) Michael suggested I read the Psalms out loud which is good since I often think with my mouth--besides it edifies the dog. Bienaventurado is the first word of Psalm 1. Blessed. Looks like Good Adventure to me. Meanwhile, I moved out a small stack of funkier Bibles to make room for so many brand spanking new ones. If you do the sort of ministry that leads to passing out Bibles, let me know and I'll give 'em to you.
When you cease to make a contribution, you begin to die. ~Eleanor Roosevelt
RECANT: At the OSL conference in Salinas, another Susan approached the book table and took umbrage with my January newsletter comments about A Thousands Splendid Suns. While she agreed that this novel about women in Afghanistan was grim, she thought author Khaled Hosseini brought in enough redemption to make it well worth reading. After some discussion, I had to agree with her. Then, while sharing God stories in my workshop around my book, it-just-so-happened that Susan sat right by a woman from Afghanistan who told her own grim-but-redemptive saga. Needless to say, Susan and I passed looks! OK, Lord. I get it.
The piece of the Lord be with you.
Bienaventurado,
Alliee +