Reverend Ref +

A Good Day

2009-11-30T07:46:00.002-07:00

We combined services yesterday because there was a lot going on.
It was Advent 1.
Our bishop made his annual visitation.
We had two confirmations.
Christ Church was 113.
We had 48 people at service.
And we had a great party afterward.

It was a very good day.

Feeling Stupid

2009-11-27T18:11:00.004-07:00

Every quarter I get the latest issue of The Anglican Theological Review (ATR). Now, just to be clear and honest up front, this does NOT mean that I actually read said issue when it arrives; I'm slightly behind on my reading. Just to be clear there . . .

Currently I am making my way through the Summer 2009 issue.

There is an interesting article by James Gould entitled Earning, Deserving and the Catechism's Understanding of Grace. It's an interesting article and he makes a good argument for why we deserve grace, as opposed to the Catechism's definition that "Grace is God's favor towards us, unearned and undeserved."

And while he does make a compelling argument, what I found to be annoying (not just a little annoying but seriously major annoying) was his use of the word 'desert.'

The only definition I have of that word revolves around arid regions (the Sahara desert), areas devoid of life (the Challenger Deep), or a strong lack of something (as much as it pains me to say it, the Washington State Cougars are a desert of football skills). Desert, to me, has a particular definition.

Which made it hard to get through this article when Mr. Gould uses desert in a philosophical sense that makes no sense to me.

"Human desert expresses a fundamental principle of morality: respect for persons."

I can't wrap my head around this. Does this mean that human "lacking-areas" express a fundamental principle of morality? Does this mean that human areas devoid of life offer respect for persons?

What I ended up doing was just reading the article and ignoring any discussion of human desert experiences. I did try to figure this out. I went to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy to learn this new definition. It didn't help.

So, if any of my three readers can define desert in a philosophical sense that makes sense, feel free to let me know.

Thank God this wasn't on the GOE's.

"Dear John . . .

2009-11-25T16:09:00.003-07:00

It's not you, it's me."

Those weren't the exact words in the letter, but they're close enough.

Obviously a decision needs to be made. The next step is trying to figure out where to go from here.

More non-cryptic information to come when it becomes appropriate.

Blessings for a Happy and Safe Thanksgiving.

Shopping

2009-11-23T17:42:00.004-07:00

This past Saturday, Mrs. Ref and I did some shopping for necessary supplies -- including that whole thing with the car.

Anyway . . .

While we were picking up the necessary stuff, I figured I'd get me a new pair of dress slacks:

Yeah, I'm just not a fancy guy. These'll do.

The Bishop is coming, the Bishop is coming

2009-11-22T18:07:00.002-07:00

Next Sunday, 1 Advent, is our annual bishop's visitation.

As it turns out, some stars and planets must be aligned because on November 29, 1896, 1 Advent, Bishop Brewer came to our town and consecrated Christ Church. Now, 113 years later, it's again 1 Advent on November 29 and the bishop will be here. Not Bishop Brewer, of course, I think he retired some years ago; but our current bishop who is probably in much better physical condition at the moment.

Anyway, because of this rare confluence of secular calendar, church calendar and bishop's calendar, we are doing one service that day. People from VC are coming down for the event and we've invited a whole herd of people. We have a couple of confirmations that day, and it will all be followed up with a brunch.

It should be a fun time. And the best thing about this? I don't have to write a sermon over the shortened holiday week.

:-D Happy priesty boy

Sermon, Last Pentecost, Christ the King

2009-11-22T09:00:00.001-07:00

Today is the last Sunday of the church year -- Christ the King Sunday. Next week begins a new year in the Church cycle with the first Sunday of Advent. This can be a jarring time.

Today we give Jesus all glory and power, wisdom and might. Today we hail the power of Jesus' name, bring forth the royal diadem and crown him Lord of all. Next week we begin our season of hopeful expectation of learning to slow down and wait patiently while the world around us speedily, eagerly and greedily rushes toward Christmas Day.

Today we stand on the brink of the already and the not yet. The already of proclaiming Christ King. The not yet of Advent. And the already and not yet of time itself as John wrote of the Lord God as the one who is, who was and who is yet to come.

This is jarring because here we are singing the praises of Jesus as all-powerful King and hearing him before Pilate stating that his kingdom is extra-terrestrial, and next week we begin our preparations for the arrival of that king born to an unwed mother in a manger. It can be jarring because now we see him as King of kings and Lord of lords, and in a few weeks' time we will see him in a pair of Huggies.

We seem to be caught in the middle between the two polar opposites of Jesus Almighty and our little Ba-boo. But we aren't caught at all. We are in that place where we can recognize Jesus' full divinity and full humanity. And we are in that place where we can look upon both with fear and trembling, awe and wonder.

We look with fear and trembling upon this great king whom we worship. This is the one who is the firstborn of the dead, resurrected in glory and who freed us from our sins. This is the one who will come again with glory riding on the clouds and making himself known to every tongue and nation. This is the one who is the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the one who is and who was and who is to come. This is the one who is the great I AM.

We also look with awe and wonder at an infant in a cradle. In a world where infant mortality was high, we are awed that God would take this form. We can't help but wonder in amazement that the God of the universe, a universe that is expanding at greater and greater velocities every second, that God is now in the form of a person no bigger than my arm. And we are in awe that God Almighty now eats, sleeps, breathes, bleeds, loves, lives and dies just like us.

It's hard to wrap our heads around the idea of fully human/fully divine. How can God manifest himself completely in a human being? How can a human being not use that omnipotence for selfish gain? And because this is a difficult thing to do, I think we tend to compartmentalize or favor one over the other.

Do we favor the image of all-powerful Jesus ruling heaven and earth, coming on clouds in glory to purge earth of Satan and evildoers? Or do we favor the image of baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes on a silent night with shepherds and angels come to honor the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay?

Maybe one of those images scares us. Maybe we are terrified of Jesus coming again, afraid for the possibility that it might be us who are cast into the lake of fire and everlasting torment. Or maybe we don't know how to deal with a God in human form who would humble himself and be like us with all of our weaknesses and temptations and ability to mess things up.

God can't be compartmentalized or contained in our boxes of limited understanding; after all, he's not a tame Lion. The best we can hope for is to understand him more. But how can we ever hope to understand the incomprehensible?

We do that, I think, by spending time with the other. If we want to limit Jesus to all-powerful king, then we should spend time getting to know the man. If we want to keep God in the manger, spend time with the King. It's really no different than how we learn about, and get to know, people. If we spend all our time with those exactly like us, what will we learn?

And that might be the most important thing to take away from this time of kingship and babyhood: Are we willing to spend time with each to learn more about how our God reigns?

And once we get that figured out, will we be willing to apply what we have learned about God to each other. Will we be willing to treat others with both the deference and honor due a king, while at the same time caring for them like we would care for a baby? And that, more than anything, is what makes all this so jarring.

Grrrrrrr

2009-11-21T21:32:00.003-07:00

Friday evening, Mrs. Ref says to me, "How long has the Check Engine light been on?"

"Only since you started driving today."

So we had a Check Engine light on all last night and all the way to Butte where we were going to do some grocery shopping and get the car serviced.

So I dropped the car off at my normal place and said, "I need an oil change, tires rotated and the Check Engine light thingy looked at."

"Okay, do you have a number we can call you at?"

Normally I wait, since I'm not from Butte and that's my only form of transportation, but Mrs. Ref and I were going to walk down to a restaurant and grab some lunch.

They called during lunch.

"You said the Check Engine light was on? . . . It hasn't been on at all here."

I hate cars.

Birthdays

2009-11-21T07:59:00.003-07:00

I sort of knew this somewhere in the back of my head, but I was specifically reminded of it this morning while I was listening to ESPN on the computer.

ESPN turned 30 this year -- September 7, to be exact.

I remember when they came out. I may not remember the first show, but I remember the early days of ESPN, watching things like Australian Rules Football, the Professional Tiddly-Wink Championship, Curling and the Jumping Frog Contest from Calaveras County (okay, I may be taking some poetic license here, but I DO remember ARF).

My father used to make snide remarks about "that new sports network" that rarely showed sports people would actually watch, as well as the fact that there was really no entertainment involved (remember, ESPN is Entertainment and Sports Programming Network). He was pretty sure they'd be off the air in less than two years.

Well, now ESPN is a multi-million, if not multi-billion, dollar industry with serious sports contracts, two networks, multiple radio stations around the country and websites popping up all over. And NOBODY refers to them as "that new sports network" anymore.

Why am I blogging about this, you may ask? Because in the summer of 1979 the Episcopal Church gathered in Denver for their 66th General Convention. Among other things that happened in Denver, GC formally approved the revised prayer book. So it was that in 1979 The Book of Common Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments and Other Rites and Ceremonies of the Church, Together with The Psalter or Psalms of David became the standard of worship for TEC.

The BCP and ESPN both turned 30 this year. And yet, why is it that ESPN is no longer "that new sports network," while some people continue to insist on referring to the BCP as "that new prayer book"?

Just something to ponder on this Saturday morning as I say a few prayers with BCP in hand before turning to watch college football on ESPN.

Fixed . . .

2009-11-18T18:00:00.002-07:00

We hope.

We had the gas company out on Monday to put an additive in the tank that is supposed to prevent moisture from building up in the line.

When I walked into the office on Tuesday, however, the furnaces weren't working. But about 10 a.m., after the weather had warmed up and the line had a chance to bask in the morning sun, the furnaces kicked on.

And according to a parishioner, they were working this morning; so I'm hopeful that whatever the gas company put in the tank (I think it's methanol) will take care of the problem.

Cancelled

2009-11-15T16:03:00.002-07:00

For only the second time in my tenure here I had to cancel services in VC. The first was due to a freak storm that blew through, making traveling the roads a little . . . dicey.

We had another storm blow through the past few days, but the roads are in great shape.

However, both of our furnaces went out over the weekend; so we have no heat to either the upstairs or the downstairs.

Services cancelled due to lack of heat.

Got a guy trying to figure it out. Hopefully this won't cost us major bucks.

Sermon, Proper 28B, Mark 13:1-8

2009-11-15T09:00:00.001-07:00

Road maps. The very first time we drive somewhere, chances are we use a road map. Whether it's a map scratched out on a piece of paper to someone's house showing a left turn at the big tree and four houses down on the right, or a Rand McNally Road Atlas showing which spur and loop to take to avoid a big city, we use road maps to get us from here to there. Not only do we use them to get us from here to there, but we use them to figure out how long it will take us to make the trip - a few minutes, a couple of hours, several days? We use them to plan our journey and get there on time.

I have found that having a map on a road trip with kids has the ability to lessen the cries of, "How much longer?" and, "Are we there yet??" I could give my daughter a map and say, "Here's where we are, here's where we're going; have fun keeping track of our journey." Granted, it didn't always work, but it helped. Besides, I could always fall back on my old reliable, "You can be there right now if you really want."

And sometimes it's nice to have a map handy so you don't get lost. In the summer of 2003, I worked at St. Paul's in Walla Walla, and my daughter spent the summer with friends in Spokane. When it was time for us to go back to Chicago, I picked her up and we did some cross country father-daughter bonding. I let her set the agenda. We stopped in a variety of places, and, in general, had a ball. We talked about our summers, the upcoming year, where we might end up, and learned a little bit more about each other. It was a great trip; and yes, I had the map just in case.

Maps are our friends. Sometimes, though, we can get too dependent on them. Sometimes we get too focused on where we've been and how long it will take to get to where we're going. Sometimes we need to slow down and spend some time where we are.

Scripture can be our spiritual road map. It tells us where we've been and it tells us where we're going. We began our journey in the Garden with the tree of life; we will end our journey in a new heaven and a new earth with the same tree of life. And on our way will be many places for us to stop and explore.

But unlike a road map that tells us how far we've come, how far we have yet to go, and exactly when our journey will end, Scripture does no such thing. Scripture may give us guide posts along the way, but it doesn't give us mile markers. The road map of Scripture is more like the trip with my daughter; we know the end destination, but the trip is more about spending time in certain places.

We need to remember this about Scripture: it's like a road map, but it is not a road map.

Today's gospel passage is from Mark 13, otherwise known as the Little Apocalypse. Jesus talks about the end times, false prophets, the destruction of the temple, wars, rumors of wars, earthquakes and famines. Peter, James, John and Andrew want to know when these things will be. They want a road map. They want to know exactly when their journey will end. But Jesus can't tell them. All he can say is, "When you see these things taking place, you know that he is near."

And this is the problem with people who make a living out of giving more meaning to apocalyptic literature than it was intended to have. How many times have we heard that the Antichrist is among us and the end of the world is near? From the Vandals at the gates of Rome, to Martin Luther, to Napoleon, Stalin, Hitler, Mao Tse Tung, the Pope (any Pope), Ronald Reagan and Barak Obama, people spend more time looking for the Antichrist than they do looking for Christ.

Sometimes people are so convinced that the end of the world is imminent - the Millerites of the 1800's, Y2K, 2012 - that they stop doing the work we have been sent out to do. People stop working to make thy kingdom come and simply sit around waiting for things to happen. They sit around waiting for the Second Coming so they can glory in being right.

But Scripture isn't a road map. Nowhere does Jesus ever say, "After Israel is at war with Egypt for six days . . . after five earthquakes in the land of Cana . . . you will have three months until the end of time." What he does say is that when we see these things, the Son of Man is near.

These things happen all around us every day. Wars, rumors of wars, earthquakes, hurricanes . . . that's the world we live in. And it would behoove us to remember that we are the face of God incarnate, we are the representatives of Christ in the world.

When we see those things and respond to them - our transient military ministry, supporting ERD, helping the hungry and homeless - then Christ is very near indeed.

Scripture is not a road map given to us to sit back and count down the events until the end of the world and the return of Christ. Scripture is more of a guided tour. It's our journey with God where we stop at various places and explore. It's where we learn more about God and where we share more of ourselves with him. It is a recognition that we are already living in the last days. We are living with wars and rumors of wars and natural disasters of all kinds. And because of that, because we are living in the last days, it is up to us to reflect the nearness of Christ to a broken and hurting world; it is not up to us to sit on our rear ends waiting for God to come clean up this mess.

So let's spend less time trying to read the road map to figure out exactly how long we have, and spend more time reflecting the nearness of Christ as we live in the moment.

Nervous

2009-11-14T17:21:00.002-07:00

The concrete was poured Wednesday.

It has been under blankets protecting it from the snow since Wednesday evening.

I talked with the contractor this evening; the blankets are coming off tomorrow morning.

I'm just a little nervous about how all this set up in sub-zero weather.

Award

2009-11-14T07:21:00.002-07:00

The VCPA is a local group dedicated to the preservation of our local "Wild West" buildings and heritage. They are behind the historical reenactments during the summer weekends (come see the hanging of George Ives, fun for the whole family), the two Grand Victorian Balls (after the first of which St. Paul's does a Holy Eucharist from the 1789 BCP) and various other events.

They also keep a close eye out for people who work to preserve our buildings and history and, once a year, hold an awards ceremony for those people deserving of such.

But this is also an insular area and people tend to be wary of outsiders and what they might do to that history . . . like, refurbishing an old house to make it "modern and up to date." People here don't like modern and up to date. I hadn't been here six months when I heard that I had won an award for my work at St. Paul's in VC (if you remember, the church that needed new carpet). In actuality, it was an award for doing nothing to the building.

While I was appropriately gracious, it felt a little like, "Welcome to the neighborhood; don't mess with our stuff."

But things have changed in the last five years.

Last night I accepted an award from the VCPA given to Christ Church. First, CC is not in VC, so it would appear that the VCPA is beginning to expand their vision. Second, I have apparently been here long enough, and done enough good things, that people are no longer scared that the outsider will run roughshod over local history.

Over the past three years, CC has re-roofed the building, installed a new bell tower, and completed a paint job (go here and scroll down to see what's been done). For all of these efforts, the members of the VCPA decided that we were deserving of an award recognizing our commitment to preserving the local history.

We still have things to do (a major stained glass window preservation project needs to be undertaken and, good lord, we need to get rid of our 1974 brown & gold indoor-outdoor all-purpose carpet); but it's nice to be recognized for work we have done, and nice to know that people finally realize that I didn't come here to eliminate their history but to add to it.

Domestic Priest

2009-11-12T17:03:00.003-07:00

Today was a "domestic" day around here. Not that I didn't go to the office, I did. But I had a sort of honey-do list that wasn't given to me by my honey. In short, it looked like this:

1. Shovel snow
2. Took me twice as long to get to VC in the storm, where I thought I'd be shoveling snow.
2a. When I walked up to the church, one of the locals was already shoveling for me.
3. Vacuumed the church today.
3a. Changed the bag and cleaned the vacuum cleaner before actually doing #3.
4. Changed two lights in one of our chandeliers. This means hauling out the 12' step ladder from the organ pump-room, setting it up, changing the bulbs, then putting the ladder back.
4b. Make sure to not tell anyone I do this by myself.
5. Changed the hymn board (well, okay, not technically domestic, but it needed to be done)
6. Shovel snow

I did get the sermon finished. Then I decided to go home early because I didn't know what shape the roads were in -- first winter storm and all. Turns out I could've stayed the rest of the day, the roads were fine. When I got home, I

7. Shoveled snow.
8. Called my sidewalk contractor to make sure the concrete would be okay and that it would still be ready by Sunday. He assured me it would be.
9. Fielded a couple of calls that came into the CC office (since I was here and all)

That was about it. Did I mention that I shoveled snow today? Yeah . . .

How I spent my day

2009-11-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

(Yeah, like you care . . . but there are pictures below)

I met with "The Boys" this morning. This is what passes for our local ministerial association. Basically it consists of me, the UMC pastor and the pastor of a non-denominational church. We are the ones who meet because, quite honestly, we are the ones who can play nice with others.

When I got back to the office, I was greeted with a concrete pour. If you go visit my parish website, you'll see Christ Church in the upper left. You really can't tell from that picture, but there is a ramp that runs down from left of the main doors. That ramp leads to . . . grass. Driving a wheel chair across grass is . . . well . . . less than ideal. I have no idea why previous members/clergy never dealt with that, but I finally have. There will now be a walkway from the main sidewalk to the ramp, and from the ramp to the sidewalk at the parish hall. And the best part of it is that it will be ready by Sunday.

Read a bit, thought about the sermon a bit, went for a walk, and waited around for my afternoon appointment who never came. So, pictures . . . here you go:

The Big Pour

The Rough Draft

Sermon, Proper 27B, Mark 12:38-44

2009-11-08T09:00:00.001-07:00

Two copper coins; that's all the money she had to her name. And yet, when it came time to make her offering, she gave it all away; holding nothing back for herself, she gave every last penny as her offering to God.

We are in the middle of what passes for our annual pledge drive. You all received a letter and pledge card and were asked to consider how you might pledge to the church in 2010. You were also asked to return those cards by December 6 so we would know where we stand. And now, as if by Divine providence, we have a gospel reading that focuses on giving to the church.

I could use this passage as a comparison between the widow giving 100 percent of her money to the church against our own percentage of 5 to 10 percent . . . or less. I could use it co compare the different levels of commitment between her and us. And I could do the Oral Roberts or TBN thing of saying that no matter how much you give, it isn't enough. I could, but I won't.

I won't because we are not in the business of comparing ourselves to other people. We shouldn't be comparing the size of our congregation to a larger one. We shouldn't be comparing the style of our facilities with a more modern facility down the road. And we shouldn't be comparing the amount of our gift with some poor widow from 2000 years ago.

Instead of comparing ourselves to something bigger, something grander, something holier and wondering why we aren't like that, we should concentrate on developing those attributes n a way that complements who we are.

To be a large church for the sake of numbers is bad theology; but to grow as a result of intentionally raising up and encouraging disciples is not. To create a worship experience that is based on showmanship and theatrics is simply self-promotion; but to develop a liturgy intentionally steeped in the traditions of the church where the mysteries of God are made manifest allows us to participate in, and share in, God's holy presence in a way that is unique to us.

Rather than using this story of the widow's mite as a financial club to beat you or shame you into an increased pledge, we have the opportunity to see this story as a holy example. The widow is like a lot of saints in our past. Our history is full of people who "lived not only in ages past, but there are hundreds of thousands still." People like Leo the Great who wrote the definitive treatise on the humanity and divinity of Christ that was formally recognized at the Council of Chalcedon, and Francis who served the poor and wrote hymn 400, and Mother Teresa who followed Francis' example by caring for one person at a time in Calcutta, and Greg Mortenson who builds schools in Afghanistan and wrote Three Cups of Tea; these people give us examples of what could be.

Nobody comes fully developed. Francis didn't plan to create the Franciscan movement. Leo's first seminary paper wasn't an orthodox treatise on the divinity and humanity of Christ. Teresa didn't go to Calcutta to save thousands of people. Greg didn't begin hiring 20 contractors to build 20 schools. These are things we work up to. These are things we learn to develop over time through a practice of living intentionally with God.

Likewise, the widow. She didn't begin her life giving all her money to the church. This particular gift came after years of faithfulness, after years of developing a relationship with God, and, yes, after years of discipleship. Those two coins, this giving of everything she had, was the end result of her journey with God.

Evagrius, a desert monastic of the late 4th century, when writing about this passage, says it is better to start out feebly and end up strong than it is to attempt perfection at the first and abandon the goal later. This holds true with our physical life and our spiritual life, as well as with our pledge.

Physically we don't train for a marathon by running 26 miles the first day. Maybe we start by walking, and then run a little, then further. Or maybe we want to clean up our speech. We begin by eliminating one vulgarity at a time until we've change our manner of speaking.

And spiritually, it's probably a bad idea to start your discipleship by trying to read through the Bible in one sitting, or by deciding to pray every office every day if you've never done that. Instead, we start by carving out a little space each day, gradually expanding it until our prayer life takes on a more significant role. And when we pledge, not many of us can begin by giving 10 percent of our income the first time we fill out a pledge card. That is something we work towards over time.

And there's the key: are we working towards a goal of perfection, of greater discipleship, of greater giving? As we intentionally evaluate our lives and our budget, are we working towards giving God a larger place in our lives? Because that's the goal -- to give of ourselves to such an extent that God is first and foremost in every aspect of our lives.

In the Rite I service, there's a sentence in the Eucharistic Prayer that addresses this idea of our struggle to turn everything over to God: And we earnestly desire thy fatherly goodness to accept this our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, whereby we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies.

It's a sacrifice because we lose control of part of our lives; we choose to give up that control to God. We sacrifice our time to be involved in church. We sacrifice our money to support the mission of the church. And in doing so, we offer our selves, our souls and bodies to our Lord Jesus Christ.

This was the end result of the widow's walk with God. She finally reached that point in her life where she could offer her self, her soul and body completely to God. So let us not use this story as a financial club or measuring stick of shame to our lives; but let us use it as a holy example of continual intentionality in building a complete relationship with God.

Congratulations

2009-11-08T07:04:00.002-07:00

Today I send congratulations to my friend Mark, USAF Chaplain, as the Air Force Academy defeated the Men from West Point yesterday 35-7 down in Colorado Springs.

Go Falcons!

Some People . . .

2009-11-05T10:38:00.002-07:00

Following Jane's lead, I am encouraging my parishes to support the military ministries of my other friend Mark, who is a USAF Chaplain and helping to get our troops some basic necesseties as they begin their tour of duty.

The basics of this is that we are collecting "Sample Sizes of Everything" to ship overseas.

Mrs. Ref received a bag full of shampoos, conditioners and bodywash the other day . . . ALL HALF USED.

Sorry, Mark, but we are NOT sending our troops half-used bottles of shampoo.

I'll just say, "Some people . . . " and leave it at that before I say something that will require a trip to my confessor.

Sermon, All Saints B

2009-11-01T09:00:00.001-07:00

Nobody gets out of here alive. From the very beginning of creation, where there was life, there was also death. From the very beginning, all plants and animals (including us) were created to be mortal. And being mortal means we die.

Over the course of late summer and early fall, I officiated at four funerals in six weeks. Those services ran the gamut from 89-year old Lowell to 3-month old Harmony. Every time I do a funeral, I am reminded of three things. First, I am reminded of our own mortality. Second, I am reminded of what a privilege and honor it is for me to be invited into one of the family's most personal moments. And third, I am reminded of both the hope and assurance we have of life everlasting, as well as our being a part of the fellowship of believers, the communion of saints.

Two of the three readings today are part of the recommended readings for our burial service. If you want to be reminded of your own mortality, read through that service sometime. In that service we hear about death and mourning. In that service we hear readings that remind us people die, but life goes on. And in that service we are reminded we were mortal from the beginning; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Funerals, I think are one of the most personal moments for families and individuals. Baptisms and weddings are big deals, but they are celebrations in the midst of life. Funerals are a celebration of life in the midst of death. In the course of a funeral we laugh and we cry; we laugh at memories of what was, and we cry for what is no more. And when someone trusts you to be present at that moment, to be there in the midst of tears and fragile emotional states, when someone is willing to call you at 2 o'clock in the morning because they didn't know who else to call, that is a privilege and honor.

As I do those funerals, whether it's for people who went to church every Sunday, never, or somewhere in between, I am always grateful for the assurance we have in life everlasting and for the fellowship of believers, the communion of saints. At a funeral, the family is surrounded and comforted by a whole host of friends and others who want to express their support. We saw this at Lowell's funeral where, because of his longevity here, people came to pay their respects. And we saw it at Harmony's funeral where, because of her short life, people came to offer support.

As I stand up front and lead people through an oftentimes unfamiliar Episcopal liturgy, I am thankful that this isn't all there is. When we were driving out to the cemetery to bury Harmony, my driver said, "I don't know how you guys do this."

Well, aside from this being my calling and part of the job, I can do this because I know God is with us. I can do this because people have died in the past and will die in the future. I can do this because the funeral liturgy is an Easter liturgy; it is a liturgy of hope. I can do this because my faith tells me that we are surrounded by a heavenly throng, a great cloud of witnesses of men, women and children who have gone before us and are now living life eternal in the heavenly kingdom.

Our faith tells us that we will live again. Our faith tells us that our souls, and the souls of all the righteous, will be in the hand of God. Our faith tells us that these mortal things will pass away to be replaced by a new heaven and a new earth, where death is no more, neither pain nor sorrow nor crying. Our faith tells us that we will be joined with those who have gone before. That is the good news of the funeral liturgy.

And it's not just funerals that tell us this, but it is our whole liturgy that points toward God's kingdom, our resurrection, and the fellowship we have with all believers, the communion of saints, past, present and future. We hear it in the lectionary. We proclaim it in the creeds. We sing it in our hymns. We affirm it in the Eucharist. We are part of that great apostolic tradition of prophets, apostles and martyrs, and with those in every generation who proclaim God's glory.

As we continue through the liturgy today, pay attention to those places that bind us with Christ in his death and resurrection. Hold onto those places that unite us to the saints in God's kingdom. Remember those who went before us, and pray for those who come after us.

Nobody gets out of here alive. But as for us, we know that our Redeemer lives and that, even though we die, our faith tells us we shall not die forever. This is the hope of the resurrection, and this is the comfort of being part of countless generations of faithful believers.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Yet even at the grave we make our song, "Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia." And this is the promise of All Saints' Day.

Just because I wanted to post something

2009-10-31T17:21:00.002-06:00

There's a rule in high school football (I won't cite rule.section.article -- just trust me, it's in there somewhere) that goes like this:

The opponent of the scoring team shall determine who kicks off.

This has been in the rules book ever since I started officiating back in 1989, and it's still in there. And ever since that time, I've wondered, "Why is this in there?"

Even if you're a casual observer of the sport, you probably know that when the offense scores a touchdown or field goal, they then kick off to the other team. The scoring team ALWAYS kicks to their opponent. Well ... almost always ... there's that whole safety issue, but then you're being penalized for being stupid, and that's another issue. Anyway, score a TD or field goal, kick to your opponent.

I was talking about this with my crew one evening, and I think I finally have an answer as to why this is in the book and when it might be applied.

You may be familiar with a game where Team A was down by, oh, say 10 points with under 2 minutes to go in the game. Let's say that Team A scores a TD and kicks the PAT, so now they're down by 3 with 1:10 left on the game clock. What normally happens is that Team A will then try an onside kick, hoping to recover the ball with decent field position and get down the field to score a field goal (at a minimum) and tie the game, or score a TD to win the game.

In this scenario, say the head coach of Team B has read the rules book (Yeah .... like THAT's going to happen) and knows this odd-ball rule. He could indicate to the officials, "We want to kick." So, rather than risking Team A recovering a short kick with good field position, he could have the ball kicked deep and force Team A to go 80-some yards to score.

So, I may never see this rule enforced, but at least now I have a scenario where it could be applied. I feel better.

Rev Ref Special

2009-10-29T17:26:00.002-06:00

Two or three years ago (I've been here long enough that I'm starting to lose track of when things happened) a couple bought one of the restaurant buildings in VC with the idea of turning it into a restaurant/antique shop. One of the positives about this was that they were going to make it the only year-round restaurant in VC. Traditionally, the only things open year round were the bar, the Post Office, the drug store, the Court House, and the church. Yeah . . . it gets a little quiet during the winter.

But now we have this year-round restaurant, which has been great for the locals. We no longer have to go over the hill to Ennis or down the road to Alder if we want lunch out.

On top of their food being excellent, they also serve large portions. You definitely get your money's worth, and you never leave hungry.

HOWEVER . . .

For the past two years, every time I go in for lunch, the owner will invariably ask me, "Do you have room for pie?"

"Of course I don't have room for pie. If you want me to eat dessert, you need to make smaller portions . . . like, say, a half sandwich and cup of soup would be perfect for lunch. Then I'd have pie."

TWO YEARS I've been saying this.

Well, kids . . . I went in to the restaurant today and, right there on their SPECIAL board, was listed "Rev Ref Special -- 1/2 Sandwich and Cup of Soup."

Had to get me one of those. And yes, I had a piece of pie afterward.

Sermon, Proper 25B, Mark 10:46-52

2009-10-25T06:00:00.001-06:00

A man was going down to Jerusalem from Jericho and fell into the hands of robbers who stripped him, beat him and left him for dead. As he lay in the ditch on the side of the road, he called out for help to a passerby; but the priest was late for services and didn't have time to help him. Again someone came by and again the man called out for help; but the lawyer didn't want to get involved because the man probably didn't have insurance. A third time someone came down the road, and a third time the man called for help; this time a foreigner stopped, cared for him, and saw to it that he was healed.

As we travel through our own lives, do we get so caught up in our jobs, in the rules or in ourselves that we either miss, or simply refuse to notice and help those people lying by the side of the road? Do we get so caught up in the technicalities and legalities of life and religion that we see those people on the side of the road, those people outside the norm, as a problem to be avoided rather than as a person to be helped? As we attempt to follow Jesus to the best of our ability, would we rather keep those outsiders outside because of either our fear of them or because of our fear that they will somehow contaminate us.

Now, about this time I would expect that some of you are wondering why I'm preaching on Luke's story of the Good Samaritan. The answer is that I'm not. One of the things we can find in the life of Jesus s told in the four gospels is consistency. I'm not talking about the supposed lack of consistency between accounts -- things like the birth narrative with two different lineages, or kings vs. shepherds -- things that people like to use as a basis for doubting the entire system. I'm talking about the consistency of the life that Jesus led. There is a consistency between stories he told and actions he took. In short, he did what he said.

Over in Luke, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan. In today's gospel passage from Mark we get to see Jesus act consistently on this story.

Jesus and his disciples were leaving Jericho with a large crowd following them. On their way, they pass a blind beggar sitting by the side of the road who, when hearing that it is Jesus passing by, begins to call out to him, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" People in the crowd try to ignore him, silence him and keep him in his place. But he cries out even louder until Jesus hears him and invites him closer; whereupon he is welcomed and healed and becomes a disciple.

Notice the similarities between these two passages. A man leaves Jericho for Jerusalem; Jesus is traveling from Jericho to Jerusalem. A man who needs the generosity and help of strangers to survive is on the side of the road. Both discarded men are ignored by the people passing by. A Samaritan arrives who cares for and sees that the man is healed; Jesus arrives and cares for and heals the man.

These two stories help to point out the consistency of Jesus between his words (the story of the Good Samaritan) and his actions (blind Bartimaeus). These two stories also point out how the followers of God and disciples of Christ consistently ignore and keep out those people on the fringes, those on the outside, those different from us.

In the passage from Mark we meet Bartimaeus, a blind beggar. More than likely he has no home; nowhere permanent to sleep, no shelter, no change of clothes, no place to bathe. Bartimaeus is a social outcast relying on the leftovers of society and the scant generosity of others to survive. As he hears that it is Jesus who is passing by, he cries out to him.

There is a large crowd following Jesus as they make their way to the Passover festival. In the next few verses, Jesus will ride in on a donkey to the cries of, "Hosanna!" Many of these followers of Jesus, so-called disciples, hear Bartimaeus crying out and try to silence him. People who may have heard Jesus talk about welcoming the kingdom like a child, who saw him heal a variety of people, and who heard him talk about being a servant to all, these same people barred the way and tried to prevent Bartimaeus from coming to Christ. These people who should have known better try to keep the outsider outside.

There does seem to be a problem with people in general that, unless you are just like me, cause us to close up and keep others out. People who are different are cast aside, pushed out, ignored, maybe even abused because they aren't like me, or us. Think for a moment how we would react if, suddenly, we had two or three Mexican families begin attending "our" church. Or how would we react if a busload of developmentally handicapped people began attending?

People in general don't like the Other. We want to keep the outsiders outside to keep ourselves pure and uncontaminated. We don't want the distraction of having to deal with them. If we have to allow them into the group, then we work hard to make them conform to our standards. And this is what the crowd following Jesus does -- they try to keep Bartimaeus on the fringes.

But Jesus reaches out to him just like the Samaritan reached out to the injured man. He reaches out and calls to him; he calls him to be part of the crowd, part of the congregation.

And this is where the crowd is to be commended. So often we hear people upset with Jesus for associating with the outsider that this is a refreshing change. Jesus calls to Bartimaeus and, instead of challenging Jesus or continuing to treat Bartimaeus as an outsider, they welcome him. "Take heart; get up! He's calling you!"

The crowd recognizes that Bartimaeus is searching for Jesus. They recognize that whoever seeks will find. They recognize that those whom Jesus calls must be welcomed by them. They recognize, like the Samaritan, that it is not just in the following but in the doing that we reflect God to the world. This is why organizations like ERD and UTO are so valuable, and why we are going to figure out a way to get turkeys to those who need one this Christmas.

Who are the outsiders that we would rather stay outside? Who are those whom Jesus is calling that we need to allow in to meet? As our crowd continues to grow, as we continually move forward towards Jerusalem and our own cross, death and resurrection, let us live consistently. And let us not become so focused on the following that we neglect to see those by the side of the road who need our help.

Weirdness

2009-10-24T17:27:00.002-06:00

I worked my final game of the season last night.

It was weird.

It was weird because I was working as the BJ -- a position I haven't worked in at least ten years, maybe longer. So I was a little discombulated. Lined up on the wrong side a couple of three times. Trying to find the right depth. Watching my keys and deep guys, while also learning to read through them to pick up other areas of the game.

It was weird because we had a variety of odd calls. There was a holding call on the offense, followed by an unsportsmanlike conduct on the defense; which meant we marched out ten, then back in half the distance and left us with 1st and 4 (or something odd). There was a call for an invalid fair catch. And we had a call for an illegal forward pass over the line of scrimmage.

And there was a fumble that bounced off a defender that was picked up by the offense and run in for a touchdown.

It rained. It got nice. It rained.

It was just a weird night. And now I'm done for another year.

Keys

2009-10-21T21:24:00.002-06:00

I'm studying keys.

No, not house keys or car keys, but things like .....

In balanced formations the BJ keys to the LJ side.
Strength to HL side, BJ has widest receive on that side.
When trips to one side, BJ has two widest receivers.
When motion man changes strength side, BJ then covers wideout to motion side.

Yeah . . . Big game Friday night and I'm working a position I haven't worked in probably close to ten years.

"Please God, don't let me screw up."

Monday Night Football

2009-10-19T18:36:00.002-06:00

The game is just about to start between the visiting 6-0 Denver Broncos and the less than 6-0 San Diego Chargers.

At least the Broncos are wearing their white visiting tops and white & black socks; so, in other words, they're only partly ugly.