I AM SOOOO TIRED

You may remember that I had a nice little visit with a member of the Gideons a few weeks ago. During that conversation, I invited him to speak at both parishes on May 1. It turns out that that was a really good decision on my part.

This week has involved several play practices, two softball practices, and a deanery clericus over in Bozeman. Not having to write a sermon has been a good thing.

Today was the clericus. Bozeman is about 1-1/2 hours from home. Not a bad drive really, especially in nice weather. I stopped in Whitehall (still haven't figured out if that is "up" or "down," so I just say Whitehall) to fill up the tank and purchase a Subway sandwich for lunch. I arrived in Bozeman in time to stop at Costco and drop off film for Mrs. Ref, then it was onto the meeting.

Wow -- we have a lot of diocesan power (or maybe I should say "input") in that group. Three members of our clericus are on the General Board of Examining Chaplains for the diocese (Montana doesn't use the GOE's); two members are part of the Youth Commission; one member is on the Standing Committee; and one member, me, is on the Commission on Mission Planning. We spent most of the meeting filling each other in on what our various committees are up to.

After that, we discussed our summer "getaway" meeting, which will be held in VC this year, mainly because VC is a fun place to be, as well as the fact that there's actually a priest there now, me again. So I need to put together a little info pack on stuff we can do as a group there. Should be a fun time.

From there, I was off to a seminar on Alcohol Awareness and learning about some early intervention. This isn't major stuff, as in "lock the doors, get the family and friends and dog and straighten this person out." It's more like consistently talking about alcohol abuse and be on the lookout for possible ways to get the person to realize they might have a problem. Very CPE-like. Anyway, I did that for a couple of hours.

After that, I stopped at Wal-Mart and picked up a six-shooter capgun set for the play. Then it was over to Costco to pick up the photos I had dropped off earlier in the day, and then home. I arrived home at 5:15; just in time to change and head over to the baseball field for practice. Practice ran late -- we worked on hitting. That was interesting. Several girls who had never swung a bat before, standing in the batter's box, having (real) softballs (real, as in, they don't hurt when they slam into your head) fired at them from the pitching machine. They did well -- I was impressed. And after adjusting to the speed of the ball, most of them managed to connect several times.

Then it was off to play practice. Act II. Um, can I just say that I will have all my lines down by the time dress rehearsal gets here. Home by 9:15. Tucked The Kid into bed about 9:30. Checked e-mail and here I am.

I am soooo tired. Tomorrow's Friday. Tomorrow's my day off. Tomorrow I plan to concentrate on my breathing. As in, "relax, slow down, enjoy yourself."

Tonight, with any luck, I will sleep hard and have one of those nights where minutes seem like hours. Tonight, with any luck, I will have dreams of flowing rivers and the crashing of ocean waves (two things I find enjoyable and I hold onto those thoughts whenever I'm stressed and need release). Tonight -- I need to quit typing. G'night.

Peace

GOTTA LAUGH

I was chatting with Jane last night and she introduced me to the Yarn Harlot. This is a blog by a woman who is way too involved in knitting as far as I'm concerned; but, hey, everyone needs a hobby, right??

So she's obviously over-the-top with her knitting, but she is also one of the funniest writers I have read while roaming around the blogiverse. She ranks right up there with Tracy, and that's saying something. Knitting may not be your thing, but check her out -- she's guaranteed to give you a smile or a laugh.

I've also added her to my blogroll. I've listed her under "Fun Stuff (Mental Recess)."

And speaking of laughing, I'm now the assistant coach for the girls softball team in Sheridan. Now that's funny.

From Montana Politics:

"Montana is a small town with long streets."

EASTER 5A
1 Peter 2:1-10

I was talking with someone the other day about churches. They had stopped in and were looking at the church. They mentioned that Episcopal Churches "looked" like a church. I got to wondering, just what does a church look like?

Peaked roof, pews, baptismal font, altar, stained glass windows? Is that part of your image of a church? How about an auditorium with Powerpoint presentations, a stage, a band, a video screen and a cross somewhere above the stage? We have an idea of what a church is, don’t we.
Some places you can walk into and feel the presence of God. The Cathedral of St. John the Evangelist, in Spokane, the Chapel of St. John the Divine at SWTS, Christ Church, St. Paul’s. And you can name others, I’m sure. What is it about these places?

The architecture? There is something special about how they are built. The peaked roof symbolizes an upturned boat. The baptismal font is at the back of the church and you must pass by it before you approach the front, verbalizing our theology that you enter the family of God through baptism. The altar at the front, which has undergone a variety of changes over time, still represents the central tenet of our service.

The light? The natural light does marvelous things in a church, especially through stained glass windows. The morning light and evening light provide two very different feelings, and that adds to the tone of the windows that, sometimes, tell parts of the biblical story.

The scent? Churches seem to have their own smell, don’t they. In some of them the incense has burned so long and so often that the smell permeates the wood or the stone. The chapel at Nashotah House Seminary is like that. Scent is probably our strongest sensation and it demands that you pay attention to it.

The community? There’s an old saying that goes something like this: you can’t go to church. That’s because the community is the church – we are the church. This place is just that, a place, a building. What truly defines us is how we relate to each other in our community, and how we relate to those outside of our community. Christianity, at its heart, is relational. And I think people who visit us can pick up on that.

Knowing it has been consecrated? This is also part of it. There’s something to be said for intentionally setting apart a building for the specific use of worshiping God.

All of this makes up what we consider a church to be. They have been made holy at its construction, by the candles and incense, by the windows, by how we use it. We have built these places into spiritual houses.

It’s the same with us. Jesus implied that our bodies are temples of God, and if we are temples of God, then we are holy; we are spiritual houses. So, like our churches, what makes us holy?

For starters, we have been made holy by our consecration – our baptism. We have been set apart from the world. We are members, as Peter says, of a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that we might proclaim him who called us out of darkness into light.

Light. Light shines in the darkness and drives it out. Candle light in a dark church is a wonderful thing. It represents the light from within, the light inside, that shines out into the world. We all have been given the light of Christ. Use it to guide you and bring light into a dark world.

Scent. I said that scent is probably the strongest of our senses, and it demands that you pay attention to it. When we baptize people, we place scented oil on them as a physical reminder of who they now belong to. Are you still carrying the scent of God with you? Are you living in a way that demands people pay attention to you and God? The scent of the Holy Spirit can be very powerful.

Community. So much could be said here. Who do we associate with? Who do we do business with? Do we have any kind of substantial relationship with the people in our congregation outside of Sunday morning? How do we treat each other? How do we treat members of other parishes or denominations? Right now, honestly, there seems to be a lack of community in the Anglican Communion. There’s a bit of irony for you.

Peter says that we are God’s people; that we need to allow ourselves to be built into a spiritual house. We have a pretty good idea of what a church should look like. Are we taking the same care to build up ourselves so that those on the outside can recognize us as one of God’s chosen? It's spring; maybe it's time to clean house.

PANCAKE ART

It's been awhile since I've done this -- like last February during the Bishop's visit. The Kid came to me with one of her toy horses and said, "I want this."

Now "this" was a horse, three legs on the ground, one back leg lifted up towards its head, and the head bowed down to bite the raised leg (maybe it has an itch). Hmmmm . . .

My first response was, "I can't do that!" It's funny what you'll attempt to avoid an angry pre-teen girl.

So I drew it out on paper (always a necessity to get practice first), mixed up the batter, and proceeded to turn her horse into a pancake. I was extremely skeptical about it at first, but when I got done with it . . . damn!! I did really well.

I made two comments to Mrs. Ref: 1) This one ranks right up there with the monstrance I did for Tripp when I was down in Columbus; and 2) This almost might be worth investing in a digital camera and figuring out how to post pics of my artwork.

And now I need to get to work on that other thing I do fairly well -- putting together my sermon for tomorrow.

CLERGY CONFERENCE

I've been out of town most of this week at clergy conference, so I haven't had time to post anything. Last week's sermon finally got posted earlier today -- see below.

So -- clergy conference. What is it. This is a time for all the clergy to get together and get away. It was held at Camp Marshall, the diocesan camp, just north of Polson, MT. That's about 300 miles from Sheridan. The camp sits on Flathead Lake with lots of trees and cabins, some in better shape than others. It's pretty much your standard summer camp. There's even an osprey that has made it's home nearby. The one thing I don't like about the camp is that the area around it is very developed, it's more like being in the middle of a housing development than in a secluded camp.

But that aside, it is a nice place. Because there was so many of us, clergy and spouses, there wasn't room for everyone at the camp, so the Lovely Wife and I stayed at a motel in Polson. Not a bad place, but the walls were a little thin.

The focus of the conference was contemplative prayer, and we had Bonnie Thurston as the keynote speaker. It was . . . . interesting. Her focus was on Thomas Merton and she had a lot to say about him and his writings. If I'm going to be honest here, I would have to say that I'm still trying to find "what works" for me regarding my prayer life, and this wasn't it. More than anything, I was a disinterested observer. Maybe I'm still feeling the after-effects of dealing with the COM and having to "prove" my spiritual worthiness. Maybe that's an excuse. Maybe I'm just too uptight to really let go. It seems that, for me, alot of this stuff simply seems forced. Who knows?

Other than the topic, however, the 2-1/2 days were enjoyable. It was nice to meet many of the other clergy from the diocese, most of whom I have only met once before. Most of the members of the Commission on Mission Planning (CMP) were there, so we had a little pow-wow and started laying the groundwork for what we will actually be doing. I met another priest who was in the middle of creating an "end of life" packet for his parishioners. Not wanting to reinvent the wheel, I asked him to send me a copy of it when it was ready. My wife got to meet several other clergy spouses, and she said that that was good.

Our bishop also gave us a rundown on the House of Bishops, some of the work going on there, some background information on their communique and response to the Windsor Report, as well as our voluntary "time-out" from the Anglican Consultative Council, and some diocesan issues. I was reminded again how fortunate we are to have the bishop we have.

The food was excellent, the company was good, the conversation was enjoyable -- all in all, it was a good 2-1/2 days. And finally, as we were driving up for the conference we stopped in Butte at the $1 Store to pick up some balloons for a classmate of The Kid who was in the hospital. While there, I found something that I actually miss from Chicago -- IBC Rootbeer. This is good stuff, and the $1 Store in Butte carries it. However, they only carry 32 oz bottles. These are the biggest bottles of rootbeer I have ever seen in my life. I was happy.

It's been a good week. And now I need to plow through unread e-mails, snail mail, create a sermon for Sunday, and maybe work on my lines for the play.

Peace.

EASTER 4A

This gospel story is one that everyone seems to know: Jesus is the shepherd, we are the sheep of his flock and those who oppose Jesus are the thieves. Or . . . there is the image of Jesus as the gate or door and it is only through him that you can get to heaven.

This story brings up a whole lot of images. Jesus as shepherd, caring for his flock. Protecting them, feeding them and guiding them. Jesus as the door through which we get to heaven. But also Jesus as the door through which God gets to us. And we are the sheep dutifully following the shepherd.

Why did Jesus use the image of sheep and shepherd? For one thing, it was a common image during that era. Shepherds were out pasturing their sheep and people were familiar with it. For another thing, sheep are really, really stupid animals and they need all the help they can get. And if you are wondering about that, notice that that even here, in one of the easier metaphors of John's gospel, the people didn't get it. Hmmmmm . . .

I want to talk about position for a bit. Notice that Jesus isn't behind the sheep driving them or keeping them out of trouble. Being behind is a position with which I am well familiar. As the eldest child in my family, I always felt it was my job to keep the younger siblings out of trouble and, more importantly, keep them from getting lost. This was especially important when we went hiking. I would place myself at the end of the line to keep tabs on everyone.

I still do that. When I was working with youth groups, I liked to be able to see everyone and know where they were. At the mall, I like to have my daughter out in front of me, so I can see if she runs into any trouble.

This is not where Jesus is, however. He is in front, and his flock is behind him. Why? Because Jesus wants to be the first to encounter trouble. If there is some rocky terrain, or a chasm or other difficulties, it is Jesus who gets there first and helps us overcome those difficulties. He will not lead us anywhere that he is not willing to go first.

This image also indicates that we are free to follow. We know his voice and he calls to us, asking us to follow him. And we do, but, in this image, he can't always see where we are. Sometimes we wander off and get lost. Sometimes he gets too far ahead of us and we lose sight of him. But he always comes back, looking for us, calling us to follow. We can choose to follow closely or at a distance, or even not at all. With Jesus in the lead, he doesn't make us go where we don't want to go; he doesn't drive us forward. He simply asks that we stay with him.

There is also the issue of vision. Sheep are only about three feet tall. The shepherd is much taller. This means that the shepherd can see more of the land and has a better view of where we need to go. The sheep, us, have a limited perspective. Sometimes that perspective causes us to think that there might be greener pastures -- greener grass -- somewhere other than where we are being led. So instead of following the shepherd on what we might consider a difficult path, we take the easy route that leads to what we think are better pastures. We end up following the short-term objective of our own desires, rather than the long-term objective of the shepherd.

I said earlier that he won't lead us anywhere he isn't willing to first go himself. And where is our shepherd leading us? Where is Jesus leading us? Why, to the cross, of course. Jesus is leading us straight to death; like a lamb to the slaughter. This is the paradox of Christianity: that the one who calls us to follow him leads us to death; but at the same time, the one who leads us to death also becomes the doorway to life. Or more simply, it is in death that we find life.

If we follow Jesus, we will certainly die; but we will also experience eternal life. If we follow our own desires, we will most certainly find greener pastures and we will live, but only in the short-term. For those greener pastures will soon be eaten up or dry out, and we will end up starving to death. We will miss out on that eternal life with God because we don't have the same perspective as our shepherd, Jesus Christ.

But remember: Jesus doesn't require us to follow him, he asks that we follow him. Who or what do you follow? Do you follow the shepherd who leads us to death and becomes the doorway to life? Or do you follow someone or something else which offers short-term life but becomes ultimate death?

CONGRATULATIONS

I mentioned in a previous post that there was going to be a big change to my blogroll -- one that had been a long-time coming and that I was excited about. Well, here it is . . .

Jane is being ordained to the transitional diaconate this evening. I would imagine that right about now they are putting the final touches on the liturgy, making sure everything is in place, and all of that other last minute stuff.

Funny how life works out, isn't it? Exactly one year ago, we were barely on speaking terms. Not that we were fighting or purposefully ignoring each other, it was just that we were in two different places. I was a senior, she was a middler. My last spring quarter was the only time I had shared a class with her, what with SWTS keeping each class as intact as possible. She sings, I don't. We were simply on different paths. At times, those paths seemed to be downright parallel -- as in, on the path towards ordination; as in, never crossing and never meeting.

A week before graduation, SWTS holds its annual Award's Night. This is one of the Big Three events. The seniors get their SWTS crosses, other people are given academic and other awards of distinction, and then we move to the refectory and present more . . . humorous awards. Such as the "Hospitality Award" that I presented to Leigh after finding out that she had left her keys in the front door of her dorm door over Thanksgiving break. But I digress . . .

Somewhere between Award's Night and Graduation, my path finally crossed with Jane. We discovered not only each other, but a genuine friendship that was too late in coming. Well, not too late, because friends found are always a blessing no matter when they appear. But too late in that we missed out on two years. Things happen for a reason, though; and from that first discussion on Dave's couch up through today and the humorous, intense, supportive and joyous times we've spent chatting together (yes, AIM is a blessing), I am glad to know her. She represents one of those jewels in life that I wish everyone could experience.

And tonight, she is being ordained deacon in God's One Holy catholic and Apostolic Church. Congratulations, my friend. It's been a long-time coming. The church will benefit from your gifts.

Congratulations are also in order for Bruce, her supportive husband; CJ, her daughter; and Kyle, her son. Tonight is as much for them as it is for you.

Congratulations also to Rebecca and Jeff, two other SWTS classmates being ordained at the same time.

Oh . . . and that change? Please note that "Senior Jane's Musings" has been moved from the "Clergy-in-Training" list. It has been relocated to "Clergy Blogs" under "Rev. Jane Muses."

GO - rilla Slippers

In a previous job, I had a penchant for running around the office in my socks. Dress shoes were uncomfortable. It was a small office and rarely any walk-in traffic, so one day I simply decided to discard the shoes.

One Christmas, my boss gave me a pair of gorilla slippers. These things are big & fluffy, with a gorilla's face and red eyes that light up when you walk. They are really cool! I guess I've had them now for about 10 years (wow, time flies . . .).

It snowed here in SW Montana last night and this morning. This is a good thing because, as I've said before, we're in the middle of a drought and need all the moisture we can get. It's a good thing for the ranchers and the snow pack and the streams and the water table.

It's a bad thing for the pedestrians of VC and, to a lesser extent, Sheridan. Paved roads are rare here. VC has one, that being the main highway. Sheridan has (I think) five. This means that one is apt to track all kinds of yucky stuff inside where it doesn't belong. And I, being the OCD freak that I am, really don't want to track reddish-brown mud all over the new carpeting in my office. What's a guy to do?

Let me simply say that you are now reading the blog of probably the only priest in the Episcopal Church who wears gorilla slippers at the office. I'm almost hoping I'll get a visitor or two today.

Peace

UPDATES AND THOUGHTS

Paul commented on my Easter 3 sermon. I popped over to his site and he seems to have some interesting things to say. And since I like interesting things, I added him to my blogroll. Check him out if you have time.

Coming Soon: A major change to my blogroll that I am beyond excited about and one that has been a long-time coming. Watch this space.

And then there was this story that came across the sportsline yesterday about the death of Al Lucas. I don't know this guy. I kind of remember his playing days with the Carolina Panthers. But, no matter -- this is without a doubt the scariest and upsetting thing to happen on a football field since Darryl Stingley or Mike Utley. Being a high school official for 13 years, and a general fan of the sport for far longer than that, I've seen my share of on-field injuries. They are most often minor. But the death of a player during a game is . . . . unthinkable. Injuries are part of the game, they are part of life. But death . . . well, that's something else. I've often said, "Football is life." In this case, it has come full circle. Pray for Al, his family and his teammates.

And I also pray that I never have to see this on a football field.

"WE HAVEN'T HAD THIS MUCH EXCITEMENT SINCE . . . ."

Well, that's not exactly true. I mean, there was the day several months ago when two cars collided downtown. The accident tied up at least four other cars for several minutes; the six southbound vehicles had to be rerouted around the block; and the eleven northbound vehicles were slowed to a crawl as they negotiated between the accident and the parked cars. This was big-time stuff here; I mean, even the cop showed up for this one. Now that was excitement.

Today, however, was . . . if not exciting, then surprising.

First, there was Brother Ken, a travelling preacher-type guy who (according to him) wanders up and down the Rockies from Canada to Mexico and back again spreading the Word of God. More on the conservative/fundamental end of the spectrum than I, but generally a nice guy. Soft-spoken, no fire and brimstone here, and willing to listen to different points of view while politely telling me where I was being misled. We had a nice little chat, then I bought him lunch and paid for his motel room.

About 2:30, I saw an older gentleman walking around the church towards my office. People usually don't know which door to use, and when they guess they tend to guess wrong. So I went out to meet this guy. Turns out that he's from the Gideons and was wondering if I would be amenable to letting them speak at church one Sunday. I took a look at my calendar and noticed that the week before May 1 I have a Vestry meeting, a couple of play practices, a deanery meeting and an all-day workshop up in Helena. I predict very little sermon activity that week.

"How about May 1?" I asked. He was free, so I now have a date with the Gideons on May 1.

Things have been hopping at the local Episcopal church today. As I write this from the library, I wonder if I should go back to the office or just take the rest of the day off.

EASTER 3A

We've been bouncing around our senses the last couple of weeks. At the Great Vigil, the two Marys saw and heard both the angel and Jesus, and they also touched Jesus. On Easter Day, Mary saw and heard two angels. She also saw Jesus, but that didn't register until she heard him. Last week, the disciples saw, heard and felt Jesus, and it was implied that Thomas touched him. And today, the gospel tells us that some disciples saw, heard and felt Jesus.

I talked about seeing Jesus in a variety of places and reaching out to touch and accept what he had to offer. Two weeks ago, I said that maybe instead of looking for Jesus we should be listening. If you've been listening to my sermons, I won't fault you for being confused.

Do we look? Do we listen? Do we touch? Do we feel? In a classic Episcopalian answer, Yes. And this is what makes Christianity different from any other religion in the world. In all of the other religions, their God or gods is an idea, a spirit, supernatural humans, something other-worldly. Christianity alone has a God who we can see, hear, touch and feel in the person of Jesus Christ. Christianity alone has a God who has lived the human experience.

Today's gospel has 'human experience' written all over it. That experience is written all over this little trip to Emmaus, and I think it's significant.

Did you ever have a bad experience where you were happy to leave it behind you? There's a saying, and you can spin it anyway you want, that goes, "Happiness is seeing Texas in your rearview mirror." Maybe that's what was going on with these two disciples. They had just had the really, really bad experience of living through what would eventually become known as Holy Week. They had seen the crowds lay down the palms, maybe they were part of the last supper or had heard about it, they knew of the betrayal, the arrest and the crucifixion. They got it all, except resurrection. So now they were on their way to Emmaus, leaving Jerusalem behind. Maybe they were thinking, "Happiness is seeing Jerusalem in your review mirror."

Maybe it's just me, but I remember going through one of those experiences and not wanting anything to do with it. So much so, as a matter of fact, that I would have been as blinded as these two disciples had I come across anyone trying to tell me that, no, it wasn't all that bad; and in fact, it was necessary and good.

Most recently that experience was seminary. Not seminary as in Seabury, because that was good -- the school, the people, the education -- but seminary as in the process. Having to deal with a confrontational COM, having to leave my home for Chicago, having to live in the flatlands of Chicago where it could take you an hour to drive 20 miles, feeling unsupported by my home parish. Based on all of that, I was never so happy as to see Chicago in my rearview mirror.

Had I met someone who had tried to tell me that it was all good, my answer would have been, "Uh huh - right." I just wanted to get out of Dodge and head home; although Sheridan and VC weren't yet home, it was west, it was mountains, and it wasn't Chicago.

Sometimes it seems like it wasn't until after my ordination in December that it all came together: spending time talking with you about life in these two communities, the churches, the people the history; being able to have discussions with you about the lessons or the gospel or the sermon or the church; and sharing the Eucharist with you. In those acts, Jesus is alive. In those acts, we are able to see, hear, touch and feel. In those acts and in these people, you, we share the human experience with Jesus.

Do you remember what those two disciples did after Jesus vanised from their sight? They immediately returned to Jerusalem, the place where just a few hours ago they were ready to leave forever. They couldn't wait to get back to tell the rest of the disciples that Jesus was alive; that the betrayal, crucifixion and death were all necessary and worth it.

In seven weeks I am going to return to Chicago. In seven weeks I will meet with some old friends, some other disciples, and I will be able to tell them that it was all worth it. Jesus is alive. I will tell them that Jesus is alive in the people of my congregations and I can see, hear, touch and feel him. I will tell them that Jesus is part of the human experience in Montana.

No matter where we are in our life journey, we can be assured that Jesus can make the journey with us. We may not always recognize his presence, but he is there. We can see him in the actins of others; we can hear him in the words of a discussion; we can touch him at the peace; and we can feel him in the community of this church. Jesus lived the human experience, just as we live the human experience. It is that which makes Christianity different from any other religion. It is that which should make us run back to tell the others that we have seen Jesus.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

BUSY BUSY BUSY

Part 1

Okay, so I went to this Commission on Mission Planning thing last weekend (see below). The gist of it is is that we (the commission) are to be a diocesan resource for struggling parishes; specifically, small parishes. If the parish is struggling because the vestry and rector are fighting, don't call us. But, if the parish is struggling trying to survive and be an integral part of the community, we're your team.

It's all really very amorphous and some of what we discussed over the weekend seemed to be of the, "Well, duh" variety, the CMP is a good thing. The Diocese of Montana has experienced some -- shall we say -- rough times in the past. Partly because of their past history, parishes moved towards a defensive position. I don't need to tell you, dear reader, that that is not the most beneficial way to be either a vital part of a community or to be active in the "missionary field."

So, here comes the CMP. Our job, it would seem, would be to redirect the focus of the parish from inward to outward by listening to where they are, using those stories to help define goals of the parish, helping to figure out what talents the parish has to offer the community, etc.

We seem to be in an interesting position in that 1) we can't just drive up to a parish and say, "Let us help," and 2) oftentimes parishes, like people, usually aren't the first ones to see they need outside input. We're working on that. The bishop could direct us to a parish, or through conversation, we might suggest that a parish call us. Anyway, like a friend pointed out to me just this morning, I like to pay attention to the details. Because of that, and because (I feel) there aren't a whole lot of details at this time, I'm kind of . . . floundering. Hopefully, once things really get rolling, I'll pick this up and just go.

Part 2

As if I needed anything else to do (besides the stewardship training this weekend, clergy conference in two weeks, a wardens workshop at the end of the month and the usual liturgical sermonizing), I've agreed to cast my "talent" (loosely used) into the local community theater.

For you smart-aleks out there, Yes, Sheridan has a community theater. Kind of. Not like the big productions that go on up in Virginia City by any means. No, this is more of a once-a-year deal for the hospital auxillary. They use this dessert & dinner theater to raise money for the local hospital. In the past, money has gone towards a new x-ray machine. I'm not sure what the money is going towards now (maybe after the performance, pain meds might be appropriate).

So . . . I've agreed to be one of the actors. The play is called "Murder at the OK Corral," and I play some guy named Stoop, sidekick of the idiot town marshal and . . . well, if I told you that, I'd give away the ending. Practice starts tomorrow and it should prove to be -- interesting. At the very least, I figured it was another way to get myself immersed into the community and meet more people. Who knows, I might even get some business out of the deal. And if not business, notoriety for sure.

Peace

MY DAUGHTER THE COMEDIAN

All parents know that their kids can say some pretty outrageous/funny things at various points in time. And what makes them even funnier is that, often, the kid doesn't understand why what they said was funny.

I (along with many other parents, I'm sure) wish that I had been keeping track of, and writing down her witicisms. Nobody else might find them funny, but they would sure be fond reminders of good times gone by when she's into that whole "I'm an adult teenager who just wishes that you would pay more attention to me and leave me alone" thing. Which, thankfully, hasn't happened just yet.

Like the time she was no more than two (like Cindy-Lou Who, that's who), and we were heading down one of the hills in North Spokane. This particular hill is one big S-curve. So as we're going down, coming around the second curve, I hear from the backseat, "Oh my God, we're going to die!"

So here's the latest. I workout a little every morning. Nothing major, just enough to pretend I'm in shape. I do 50 pushups, then a video ab thing, then 50 more pushups. Takes me something like 25 minutes. I'm on the last 50 and breathing relatively hard. She pipes up, "Geez dad, don't die. You still need to make my lunch."

Ah yes, that's my daughter. Never a dull moment.

EASTER 2A

We get this gospel every year on this, the second Sunday of Easter. Every year we hear about Doubting Thomas. And every year sermons are preached along the lines of, "Poor Thomas -- couldn't believe until he saw. Don't be like Thomas."

Well . . . why not? I think that this is one of those passages that we can really relate to, if we are honest with ourselves. We all have doubts, and if you say you don't, you're lying. Doubts about our marriage, our parental abilities, a new job or a new career, or maybe even about God himself. The world is full of doubters.

Doubting -- honest doubting -- often leads us to challenge existing beliefs which can then lead to a deeper understanding and appreciation for our beliefs. For instance, the Church for centuries held to the Ptolemaic system of the universe -- the system that said the earth was the center of everything -- based on whay they both saw with their eyes and the theology that God put us in the middle, the center, the focal point of the universe. Men like Copernicus and Galileo and Kepler doubted that assumption, and, as a result, we all have a deeper understanding and appreciation for just how grand and intricate God's creation really is.

There is a huge difference though between honest doubting and doubting 'just cuz'. Honest doubting causes us to examine long-held assumptions and/or beliefs and ask, "Why?" Honest doubting means that we stay in dialogue with the question, wrestle with the question, and allow ourselves to discover and accept the answers that come from doubt.

'Just cuz' doubting, however, means that we don't engage in dialogue, we don't wrestle, and we aren't willing to consider or accept answers that may be different from our preconceived notions. It means that we simply close the door or shut down our doubts simply by saying, "Just cuz." People who doubt the resurrection or God or faith or whatever simply by saying, "I don't believe it just cuz," aren't doubters. They are self-imposed censors.

Or how about the flip side of that. Not engaging in dialogue, not wrestling, not willing to accept what we consider unorthodox answers out of our fear of change. These people have developed easily defended, black and white answers out of a bible that was dictated by God to Moses in the Queen's English. They don't doubt anything. It's written in the bible and they believe it just cuz. These people are often portrayed as having a strong faith. Well, with apologies to our more conservative and fundamental brothers and sisters, it's a weak faith that is unable to withstand the least bit of doubt. They have all their answers in their itty-bitty God-box. Isn't it interesting, though, that the God who created everything, the God who is omnipotent, omniscient, omniomni everything fits so well into those boxes?

Thomas . . . getting back to Thomas . . . seems to me to be the lynchpin, stuck in the middle of both sides, hanging in the balance. One group hails him as the patron saint of those willing to question and challenge age old assumptions; and one group derides him as a person weak in faith, unwilling to believe unless it could be proven.

Let's not blame Thomas for doubting, and let's not blame Thomas for believing only after seeing. Instead, let's give Thomas credit for being willing to admit to where he was -- somewhere between complete faith and complete rejection.

And finally, according to the NRSV translation which we use, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe." And yet have come to believe. This is different than previous translations which don't have the word 'come.' By adding that, there is an implication that people are on a journey. There is an implication that people are somewhere in the midst of dialogue or struggle or discovery. There is an implication that people can change over time.

At some point we are all like Thomas -- we won't believe until we see. So the question today is, Where do you see Jesus? Can you see him in your friends? Can you see Jesus in your neighbor? Can you see Jesus in your enemy? Can you see him in the other? Can you see him in this church? If you can, then, like Thomas, reach out and take what Jesus is offering you. And in that reaching, you will come to believe.

BEGIN AGAIN

Okay, I survived Holy Week (see below). I took two days off to recover from the stress of the week and banging out more sermons faster than GOE answers. At first, I actually wondered about the wisdom of doing that. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but then I went back to work. Ouch.

Wednesday seemed like a hard day to get back into the groove. Kind of like the first week of classes after a long break. "Tell me again what I'm doing here?"

Today was a little better. Concentrated on writing my sermon about Thomas for Sunday. Went to lunch with my treasurer. Did a mini-service review with him, since he was the only one who made all of the Holy Week services. Sent an e-mail to a friend. And tried to figure out what's happening this weekend.

This weekend -- I've been asked to serve on the diocesan Commission on Mission Planning. Now you know as much as I about it. I'll fill you in next week. But I was beginning to be stressed out. This meeting has been planned for months, and as of today, I hadn't heard anything about times or locations. My OCD alarms were going nuts. So I made some phone calls and finally got some specifics.

The Kid will be staying with some friends while the Lovely Wife and I are at this meeting over the weekend. She's excited because her archery instructor let her borrow a bow and several arrows. Her hosts are excited because they get to take her shooting. It'll be intersting to hear how the weekend transpires.

Have a good weekend.