STAGE 2

So here's what I figured out so far: It takes alot more rock than paint to put together a 40' labyrinth. Rick showed up at the church at 8 am. I gave him the run down on what this thing is going to look like and off we headed to the slag pile.

We loaded rock for about an hour, then unloaded and placed rock for about another hour. After which time I said, "Wow, we got alot further than I thought we would." My excitement and optimism were, however, short lived.

Back to the slag pile for another load of rock. We got detoured by the Sheridan Days Parade (which was, in my opinion, a better event than the Ennis parade). So Rick, The Kid and I watched the parade go by. The Kid collected a fair amount of candy. After the parade, we unloaded and placed more rock. I don't think we hauled as much on Trip 2 as we did on Trip 1, because we still had a LONG way to go. This time around, however, The Kid and Mrs. Ref helped place the rock. That cut down the labor time somewhat.

Then it was back to the slag pile for our third load of rock. I think we loaded about the same as Trip 1 this time. I was having trouble lifting the rock by this time. Not so much in the shoulders, chest and biceps, but my forearms were starting to hurt. It takes some effort to grip rock, and the old forearms were starting to wear down. We headed back to the church where we now had Mrs. Ref, The Kid and Rick's wife, Dena, helping to unload and place rock. Then we called it a day. It was darn hot and we were all hungry. So we took Rick & Dena to the park for the festivities of Sheridan Days and bought them lunch.

Now, I'm no optimist, but I'm pretty sure that we'll be done with this thing after two more loads. Dena and Rick are going to come over either tomorrow evening or Monday evening. We'll bbq dinner and (hopefully) finish the job.

Right now though, my forearms need some attention. Other than the spinach thing, I wonder if this is how Popeye got those forearms . . . by moving rock.

STAGE 1

So the first part of the construction process is finished. Me and my blue spray paint laid out the pattern of the labyrinth this morning.

Sometimes I'm a slow learner. It took me awhile to figure out that I didn't need to paint the WHOLE DAMN THING on the lawn. Just the necessary points so that we know where to drop the rock, then I can use the pattern on the paper that I drew up for the specifics. This revelation was a real time saver; not to mention the fact that I only needed one can of spray paint.

You know, a 40' diameter circle is really really big.

Tomorrow -- the rocks.

LABYRINTH

In my never-ending quest to shake things up (pardon the pun if you've just read the earthquake post), get people to color outside the lines and do stuff clearly visible to show this town that our parish is alive -- ALIVE I TELL YOU -- oh, sorry, just a little Gene Wilder flashback, I approached the vestry Monday night about the possibility of creating a permanent labyrinth on the lawn of the church.

To my surprise, not only did they think it was a good idea, but they were actually excited about the prospect and even offered up some ideas for it; such as using these small solar powered lights to light it up at night, planting flower beds at the switchbacks and such. Wow. Who knew?

The place I have picked out is large enough for a 40' d. labyrinth, providing I use 18" pathways and a 7' d. center. It will be on the south lawn and the entrance will be, conveniently, accessible from the sidewalk on its east. There are tons and tons and tons of mining slag just sitting in piles waiting for someone to come along with a good use for it. The plan is to visit a slag pile and use appropriate sized rocks to lay down and create this thing.

What this also means is that yours truly will be doing alot of manual labor this weekend. Hopefully my efforts to get in shape will have paid off. And luckily we have a parishioner who is about 33, in good shape, owns a pickup truck and said yes when I asked if he would help. Everybody say, "Yeah God!"

I went down to the Ace store today and bought a dowel (to mark the center), twine (to lay out the circles), and spray paint (to determine where the rocks go). Friday I'm going to lay the thing out in paint. Saturday, Rick and I will load rock, haul rock and place rock. With any amount of luck, we'll get it done in one day. I'm not holding my breath. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll be breathing fairly hard. But who knows. Stranger things have happened.

The next step will be to publicize the thing. At the very least, we might get some people stopping by and asking questions. And I'd be willing to bet that this will be the only labyrinth in the State of Montana.

5.6

No -- this isn't the average score received on my last sermon (although I have been kicking around the idea of giving scorecards to the parishioners so I can get that immediate feedback).

Rather the above number represents the magnitude of the earthquake that struck our area last night just after 10 pm. Not a large quake by any means, more like moderate according to the experts. However, the place rumbled quite a bit. I'm guessing the tremor lasted 10 - 15 seconds, the building was shaking, it was noisy, and The Kid was terrified.

But things settled down, there were no aftershocks, and, surprisingly, nothing in our house came off the walls. Neither were there any new cracks at either CC or St. P's, and everybody and everything seems to have survived intact.

I talked with two parishioners this morning. One of them said that it came from the "wrong" direction. The epicenter was NW of us, and he has been expecting a quake to originate in Yellowstone for some time now. The other parishioner slept through it all.

I suppose the next thing will be the eruption of the Yellowstone caldera. All in all though, I have no complaints about living in SW MT.

SERMON
10 PENTECOST
PROPER 12A

Last week I talked a little about how Jesus lived in an agrarian society and that was why so many of his parables revolved around farming and issues of farming. The sower, the weeds and the wheat, and this week the mustard seed - another farming-type image. Well, I was only partially right.

What we get today are five parables in five sentences. The kingdom of heaven is like . . . . a mustard seed, yeast, a hidden treasure, a pearl of great value, and a fishing net. These parables have something to say about the kingdom of heaven individually, and they have something to say about it corporately.

Individually, the mustard seed, the yeast and the net point out that the kingdom of heaven has a bigger effect than we might originally comprehend. The tiny little mustard seed grows and provides a safe place for birds to nest. It also provides shade from the sun for other animals and people. All birds, regardless of type, are free to nest in its branches. All people, regardless of gender or political persuasion, are free to rest in its protective shade.

The yeast affects all of the flour. Those who bake know that it doesn't take alot of yeast to do the job. If the kingdom of heaven is like yeast, then it doesn't take alot to make a change. In some ways, that yeast, you and I, will affect the world; whether it be an invitation to church, living your lives as an example to others, or how I, as priest of this parish, reach out to the people in this community. What God does through us is like what yeast does to flour, it changes it on some unseen level and raises it to new heights.

And the net catches fish of every kind, both good and bad. The net is relatively small compared to the sea, but that small net caught fish of every kind. And if the net is catching both good and bad fish, as the end of the parable indicates, then maybe we shouldn't be so discriminatory as to who we want to bring into the church. If you read past the assigned readings, you will see once again that Jesus says it is the angels who will separate the good from the bad, the righteous from the unrighteous. We don't know who those people are, so maybe it isn't a bad idea for us to catch everything and let God sort it out in the end.

Then there were the two treasures, one accidental and one intentional. One man is surprised and the other is pleased. We can be toiling away, going to church every Sunday, dragging ourselves to vestry meetings, Thursday night Eucharists, soup suppers or whatever other idea the vicar comes up with, not sure why we are doing what we are doing, and suddenly find peace and joy and meaning in it all. And if you want a good example of that, ask Polly about the whole Easter Triduum event this past spring. Ask her about the Good Friday service where we crucified Jesus, and about the Holy Saturday service in the bare church with the altar covered by a funeral pall because Jesus was dead, and about the flame and the lighting of the church at the Easter Vigil. Ask her about being surprised.

Or we can be searching intentionally for the deeper meaning of life, the universe and everything. That search can take us to Christianity or Islam or Judaism or some New Age crystal worshiping thing or standing out in the trees. That search can lead us all over the place and finally lead us to discover the one pearl of great value that makes us shout for joy. We may still be surprised when we find it, but the difference is that at some level we were expecting to find it. And that doesn't make it any less valuable.

These are two different paths to a prize of great value, but notice that each person has become totally committed to gaining the discovered treasure. Each person gives up what they already have for the expectation of gaining something better. Are we as committed to Jesus as the two men in the parables were committed to their own discovered treasure?

Each of these one-sentence parables has something to say to us individually, and you could tease out a whole lot more than I have just done. But I find it just as compelling to look at them corporately. What do they tell us if we take them together?

The kingdom of heaven is like . . . . a seed that grows, yeast in some flour, a surprise, the end of a search, a fishing net. All of these things were everyday occurrances in the life of the people with whom Jesus spoke to. The kingdom of heaven is in the details of everyday life. The kingdom of heaven is like a tiny baby, a new grandchild, one that was born in a manger. The kingdom of heaven is like yeast, traditionally thought of as evil, but an everyday item that can have a positive impact. The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure of good news or the result of a long search.

But we have trouble seeing that. We wait for signs from above; or we plot out prophecies and start making a checklist of when Jesus will return in a blaze of glory; or we establish our own criteria as to who the good and bad fish are, hopeful that God will see we've already got the good ones picked out.

What we need to do is be like Solomon in today's OT reading who humbly asked for a wise and discerning mind. We need to be humble and ask for the wisdom to see God's work and the kingdom of heaven in the here and now.

The kingdom of heaven is like . . . . everything you see around you. Don't look for something spectacular to show up miraculously in the future; look for the miraculously spectacular in the details of today. John the Baptist said it, and Jesus said it: The kingdom of heaven is near. Don't wait for tomorrow.

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING REALLY DIFFERENT

Some of you may have wondered where the whole Reverend Ref came from. Well, before I got into this whole priesty-boy business, I spent 13 years as a high school football official.

I love football. In my mind, it really is the only sport (except maybe hockey, but I can't skate so I'm relegated to simply watching). One of the best years of my life was around 1983 - 1984 when I had the good fortune to watch NFL & NCAA games on the tube in the fall as well as the USFL the following spring and the CFL the following summer. Not an NBA game in sight. I was in football heaven. But I digress.

So I was one of the men in stripes for a very long time, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Then, in 2001, we moved to Chicago to attend SWTS. On one of my visits, a student told me, "You have to have a hobby to get you away from school." I took all of my gear with me, thinking that I might be able to officiate there. Um .... not so much. However, I did manage to officiate six games in my time at seminary. Each year I officiated the SWTS vs Garret game and the SWTS vs Nashotah House game. Although I attended SWTS, when I put those stripes on my loyalty was to the game, and nobody could say I wasn't anything but fair.

And the point of all of this? Last year was too soon, but I contacted the MHSA earlier this month and got the necessary information about becoming an official here. I received my packet in the mail this past week and it included the 2005 Rules Book, Case Book and Official's Manual.

As Mrs. Ref said when she saw me open the packet, "My little boy is back!" It was better than Christmas.

So -- it would seem that the Ref part of Reverend Ref has finally returned. And the really good news is that I only need to purchase a few things to make me game ready. It's been a long four years, and I am sooo looking forward to this.

CATCH 22

The little ado that has been floating around this area of the blogiverse can pretty much be summed up as follows: I preached a sermon about weeds and wheat; Shari didn't like it; I wrote a letter to Shari; she responded.

Okay, there's more to it than that, and if you want to follow up, you can go several places for some more ins and outs; such as here, here, here, here, here, and here, among other places that aren't too hard to figure out.

In my most recent posting, I said, "I do not ask that you change your views; I only ask that you be willing to acknowledge and appreciate our differences, and, in that acknowledgment, share a Eucharistic meal with me knowing that we are both children of God, loved by the One who created us both."

Shari's response was . . . . well . . . . long, well thought out, and I appreciate her taking the effort to put her thoughts into a post. However, never did she address that particular quote, and she never stated as to whether or not she would be willing to do this. What she did do was to continue to hammer away at various bloggers for their cowardice, placing sentiments over human beings, ignorance, busyness, and intentional silence.

Where am I going with all of this? I am realizing that I have been placed in a Catch 22. Should I preach a sermon about weeds and wheat, I am -- for lack of a better term -- attacked for calling conservatives 'weeds' while ignoring liberals. Should I choose not to post my thoughts about a particularly nasty situation -- such as the current mess in CT -- because I'm not up to speed on the details, I am labeled ignorant. Should I post a letter laying out my position on what constitutes my roots and invite people with different positions to be willing to share a Eucharistic meal, then I am indicted of placing sentiment over people.

Much of this has moved from discussion and debate to simply, as I see it, "You don't agree with everything I say, therefore you are wrong, bad, evil, hypocritical, pathetic (use your own descriptor here)." It occurs to me that no matter what I say or how I reply, that answer will be picked apart in an effort to show where I am wrong. Nothing I say will ever be good enough, informed enough, brave enough, right enough. I'm not interested in that type of discussion.

I will continue to post sermons and thoughts as I see fit; afterall, it is my blog. And through it all, please feel free to comment. Feel free to pick me apart. Feel free to tell me how and where I am wrong. Feel free to accuse me of bias. I will look forward to reading your comments, taking them in and pondering your thoughts in a continual effort to learn about opposing viewpoint. But I will not always respond; I will not play the Catch 22 game.

Peace

DEAR SHARI,

Grace and peace to you:

I have read your recent comments directed towards Jane, Susie and myself. I must agree with others who hear much anger in your overall tone, and I apologize if I have contributed to that anger.

It is a hard thing to feel that your roots are being carelessly ripped out, leaving you struggling for support and feeling neglected (at best), or left to die (at worst). I have been there, seminary was just such an experience for me.

I entered seminary as a self-described 'right of center conservative.' I also had a tendency to speak my mind publicly. Not always, but often enough to earn both overt ridicule and covert admiration. There were many times when I felt like my root system was being ripped out, times when I thought people saw me as a weed and wanted me gone.

But one of my many flaws is that I am not a good debator -- I don't think that quickly. So instead of immediately engaging classmates about our differences, I was forced to take time and consider both positions carefully. This did two things: first, it made me a better listener; and second, it caused me to entertain the possibility that I might be wrong. And if I were wrong, was it then true that my roots were being ripped out, or was I being pruned?

I finally came to the conclusion that my roots consisted of the following: Jesus Christ is the second person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior, I am a sinner in need of redemption, God is way bigger than I can imagine and won't be confined to my limitations. That's it. Everything else is branches that come and go and change over time.

But enough about me.

In my last sermon (Proper 11A, see below), I discussed the desire of certain groups to want to rid the Church of those people they saw as weeds. You were kind enough to both read and comment on that sermon and I want to thank you for taking the time to do so. I will address your comments here.

"Go preach to Bishop Smith in Connecticut."
The situation in CT is indeed a sad affair, as is the General Unpleasantness in the Anglican Communion. I am not from CT, however, so my knowledge of those events is second-hand at best. My understanding of what is happening can be summed up as: We (Side A/Side B) tried to explain our position and talk with them, but they (Side B/Side A) won't listen.

One side claimes it requested outside oversight, the other side claims they demanded it. One side claims a parish was abandoned, the other side claims there were/are extenuating circumstances that were well documented but ignored. What is known for sure is that I don't know the specifics, so my preaching to Bp. Smith would seem out of line.

"Or are conservative 'weeds' easier to spot . . ."
I do not know if 'conservative weeds are easier to spot,' but I do think that they are louder. In my humble (and probably too-little informed) opinion, there is much more sabre-rattling coming from the likes of +Duncan, ++Akinola, the AAC, the Network (in Anglicanism), and the non-denominational Fundamentalists such as the Christian Coalition, Focus on the Family, etc, than there is from the other side. Right or wrong, I think that their willingness to be outspoken demands a rebuttal.

". . . and my be so ripped up without comment?"
If you have been reading my sermons over the course of time (that includes sermons I preached in seminary, as an intern and up to now), you will note that I comment against both sides when it seems appropriate. I will concede that I do tend to lean more to the left, but that doesn't stop me from commenting against that side when I feel it necessary.

I am never in favor of ripping up what I might consider to be a weed. First, it does more damage than good. Second, God may choose to use that 'weed' in a way I hadn't considered; remember the example of the dandelions in my sermon. And third, by concentrating on ripping up weeds, I neglect to care for the wheat.

It seems to me that we, myself included, have become more focused on the branches than on the roots. We have forgotten that our root is Jesus Christ our Lord, and instead have mistaken our roots for Paul or Apollos or Cephas or Robert or Peter or Gene or Bill. We are forgetting that we who are many are one body. In our forgetting unity through diversity, we are all trying to become eyes so that we can make sure everyone sees things the "correct" way, whether right or left, liberal or conservative.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote, ". . . differences are not intended to separate, to alienate. We are different precisely in order to realize our need of one another" (God Has a Dream, 76). Thank you, Shari, for being different from me and for giving me the opportunity to share a little of myself with you. I do not ask that you change your views; I only ask that you be willing to acknowledge and appreciate our differences, and, in that acknowledgment, share a Eucharistic meal with me knowing that we are both children of God, loved by the One who created us both.

May the blessing of God Almighty be with you always; and pray for me, a sinner.

SERMON
9 PENTECOST
PROPER 11A

Jesus, in many ways, was a product of his environment, like all of us. He may have been a carpenter for most of his life, but he lived in an agrarian society and he probably understood alot about farming. So it's no surprise that most of his parables had to do with agriculture in some respect; last week was the sower, this week is the wheat and weeds (or, for those who prefer the King James, the wheat and tares), next week we get the mustard seed. So we are going to spend some time in the field here.

Do you remember last week's sermon? And do you remember what I said about the sower? It's out job to sow -- that's it. It isn't our job to determine good seeds from bad, or to inventory the good seeds, or to even wonder why some seeds produce 30 shares while others produce 100 shares.

Today though, we move from sower to slave. We are now charged with working in our Master's field and with caring for the seeds he has sown. Now it becomes our our job to help drive the birds away, to live in a way that places a higher priority on God than on the world, and to help develop a strong root system for the seeds in our care.

The birds, remember, represented the evil one who snatched away anyone who didn't understand the word. It is now our job to help them understand what this is all about.

It is also our job to help people understand that this isn't about keeping up with the Jones', so we need to model the concept of giving and tithing and other behaviors that put God first.

And it is our job to continually teach and explain this thing called Christianity and the Church; because the more they understand it, the less likely they are to fall away.

So getting back to today, we are the slaves working in the field, doing all that I have just mentioned, when suddenly we find weeds growing up where they shouldn't be. What's our first inclination? If you're like my grandmother, we want to rip them out.

I heard a definition of weed once: it's a plant that grows where you don't want it. Think about dandelions, for instance. Dandelions in your yard . . . . weeds. But a plot full of dandelions to be harvested for soup, salad, wine or Guinea pig food . . . . crop. And dandelions presented to you in the hand of a child . . . . bouquet. The point is this: we may not always know what a weed is and what it isn't.

Because we think they dont' belong, we want to rip them out. But if we do that, then we may cause more damage than good. The wheat won't have a chance to grow and develop and produce fruit, and it's entirely possible that the master might actually use some of those weeds to his benefit.

Think about the weeds in our own lives. Are they people who sing off-key? Don't come to church? Go to the wrong church? Sit in our pew? Are they terrorist who blow up buses or fly planes into buildings? We live among weeds every day.

God said, "Leave them alone and let them grow together." We are the slaves, and our job is to tend to the crop. So we water both wheat and weed, and we drive the birds away from them both. In the end, God will instruct his reapers as to the difference between weeds and wheat and what they should do with each.

There are many factions today, however, who seem to think that they know the difference between weeds and wheat. Not only do they think they know the difference, but they are intent on ripping the weeds out before the harvest is ready.

This presents at least three major problems. The first is that by claiming to know the difference between weed and wheat, they are claiming to know the mind of God. I don't know about you, but sometimes I don't even know the mind of my own daughter. It must be nice to have a direct link to the mind of God Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.

The second problem is that it eliminates God's ability to use those weeds in a positive way. Remember the dandelions? God created everything, even weeds. By fanatically ripping them out, these people are telling God what is good and what is bad, what is worthy and what is worthless. They are forgetting a key refrain from Genesis 1: And God saw that it was good.

The third problem is that by ripping out the weeds, they are also uprooting the wheat. How many people have been scared away from the Church, never having been given the opportunity to grow and produce fruit, by ultra-conservatives who are giving Christianity a bad name? How many people have been driven out of churches, in effect uprooted, because they don't agree with the fanatical "moral" majority? More damage is done, I think, by trying to rip out and eliminate what we see as 'weeds' than by trying to live peacefully with them. Note that the writer of Wisdom in today's lesson said that God cares for all people. That includes weeds.

God is ultimately the one who separates the wheat from the weeds, and we are not part of that process. We are asked to tend to both, not to separate them. Let's not ever forget that.

GOOOOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!!!!

Well, not really, but the weather lately has made me think of that movie. Namely, Robin Williams' weather report:

"It's hot, damn hot ....."

To hot to blog. That's okay -- not much going on here anyway. Apparently the dog days of summer have officially hit.

IMAGINE THAT

I just received an e-mail from the diocesan Canon for Administration and he let all of us clergy types know that one of our own has started a blog site to help with sermon prep. I haven't actually looked at it yet, but that's my next stop. I was so excited that I wanted to let my reader(s) know about it and give it a link on my blogroll.

Hopefully it will be a good thing.

You can go here to check it out.

SERMON
8 PENTECOST
PROPER 10A

Starting from the time I can remember sermons, this has been a popular gospel to preach on. I don't know what it is, but it seems like we hear the parable of the sower more than once every three years. And although this parable appears in all of the synoptic gospels, this vesion from Matthew is the only one we read as part of the Sunday lectionary.

This is one of those parables that everyone seems to know; maybe because it's in all three gospels, who knows. Anyway, it seems to be very popular, from camp programs to youth events to weekend retreats to televangelists, they all seem to utilize this particular gospel, and the general theme seems to be, "Which kind of seed are you?" Or maybe the theme is, "What kind of seed do you want to be?"

Are you the seed that never makes it to the soil and gets eaten up immediately? Are you the seed who hears the gospel and immediately tries to live it out, but eventually falls away from Christianity as if it were just another spiritual fad? Are you the seed who hears the gospel but then gets sidetracked by keeping up with the Jones' and allows the cares of the world and the lure of wealth to choke away your commitment? Or are you the seed who hears the gospel, develops a deep root system and eventually produces fruit?

And maybe for camps and weekend retreats that isn't a bad way to explore this gospel. "Am I living out my faith in such a way as to develop a deep root system and produce fruit for the kingdom?" Part of the problem of focusing on that aspect of the parable, though, is that it can lead to guilt and self-doubt. If you are like me, you tend to project yourself into a variety of scenarios, none of them good.

"I didn't go to church this week, am I being snatched away?"
"I try to live out the gospel every day, but I get so tired of the struggle; am I being scorched?"
"I was going to pledge to the church, but I bought a new bass boat instead; am I being choked to death by the world?"

Very rarely will I look at this and say, "I'm a good seed and I'm producing fruit for the kingdom." If all we do with this passage is look at it and try to determine what type of seeds we are, then I think we are missing the boat. So if you haven't considered a different reading of this parable, let me give you something else to think about.

Instead of focusing on the seeds, let's focus on the sower. The sower is a disciple of Jesus and is working to spread the news of the kingdom. His job is to touch all of the seeds in his bag. In other words, he needs to try to plant all of the seeds he has and he can't decide to quit early; because if he quits, then that will guarantee that some seeds aren't planted and there won't be a crop.

Notice that it is NOT his job to ensure that all of the seeds are planted in good soil that will allow them to produce fruit. Nor is it his job to determine ahead of time which seeds have the best possibility of producing fruit. Nor is it his job to take iventory of the seeds that fall in the good soil and produce fruit. And you might be able to make an argument that it's not even his job to care for the seeds.

Now I'm not saying that we shouldn't be concerned with what happens to the seeds we sow, because we should. We should be concerned about those who might be snatched away. We should be concerned with those who haven't developed a good root system, and we should help them to develop. We should be concerned with those who place a higher priority on the values of this world than the kingdom, and we should try to show them a better way. But all of that is going beyond the parable of the sower.

Sticking strictly to that parable and seeing the sower as a disciple of Christ, then at the very least, we are all sowers. We all need to work to spread the news of the kingdom of God. Our seeds are the people "out there." We need to try to plant all of the seeds in our bag. Some people won't listen. Some people will be excited for only a short period of time. Some people will be too busy keeping up with the Jones'. And some people will become active members and bear fruit.

It's not our job to try to figure out what seed is what, or whether it has landed on the path or amongst the thorns; it's simply our job to sow the seeds. It's our job to touch all of the seeds in our bag. It's our job to talk to as many people as we can about our faith and invite them to join us. And I'll tell you this: if you don't at least attempt to plant the seeds, then we won't have a crop at all.

MORE ON THAT DEER (SORT OF)

First, Jane correctly pointed out that I don't know my left from my right. Maybe it was the fact that I swerved left to avoid the deer, or the fact that I saw the left side of the deer, or the fact that I was totally surprised, or maybe it is simply is true that I'm dumber than a deer. Whatever the reason, the aforementioned deer came from the right side of the road and hit the right front quarter panel and removed the right mirror.

I'm telling this story to my parents shortly after it happened. My dad says, "You're mirrors fold in, don't they?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"Well I would think that the mirror would just fold in when you hit the deer. I mean, I can't believe it took it off."

He's got to be kidding, right?

"It should be just like hitting the side of the garage -- the mirror should just fold back against the car."

Nope, he's not kidding.

"Um, dad, when was the last time you hit the side of the garage at 68 miles per hour?"

My dad cracks me up sometimes.

ONE YEAR

This week marks my (our) first year in Montana. Sunday, July 10, will mark the one year anniversary of my first service here in SW MT. It hardly seems like a year, but it also seems like alot longer than a year.

That's a good thing, for those of you wondering. Good in that we feel so much at home here it's like we've always been here. I'm pleased for that.

I celebrated the ocassion in the proper Montana fashion. No, I didn't get drunk (although I was out at the Mill Creek and Stockman last night, but that's work -- remember??).

Anyway -- coming home from VC after seeing "The Canterville Ghost" at the Opera House on Tuesday, Mrs. Ref and I were somewhere between Ramshorn Creek and the cemetary when I whacked a deer. Other than the bird with AKMA, this was the first animal I have hit since being here.

There I was, minding my own business, when this Doe-With-A-Death-Wish appeared out of nowhere. I remember seeing her head in the lower left of the windshield. I turned left and managed to sideswipe the DWADW so that the only damage was a small dent in the left front quarter panel and the removal of my passenger-side mirror.

I have decided that deer are the stupidest animals on the face of the planet. You might argue for sheep, but sheep don't actively look to kill themselves. I relayed this story to a patron at the Stockman, and he told me about the time he was driving in the winter. "I was doing about 30 because it was really bad. This deer appeared on the road. I slowed down to about 15 or 20, and the darn thing looked straight at the car and charged. It INTENTIONALLY ran into the car."

Yeah.

So everyone survived. Although I'm not sure about the status of the DWADW. Hopefully she escaped with a headache.

It's been a good year, all things considered.

NEW BLOGGER

Stephanie showed up in my comments on one of my posts. She is working her way through The Process and started a blog.

Check her out, and give her some encouraging words every now and then. Lord knows we all need(ed) it.

SOLD -- HOT DAMN!!!!

Some of you may know that we have been working on selling our house in Spokane. We weren't able to sell before we went to seminary because the amount of the sale wouldn't cover both mortgages. So while we were in seminary, it became a rental.

This worked out very well, actually. All through seminary the rent check paid the first mortgage.

After seminary -- not so much.

We had problems with the renters, got behind on the payments once or twice, managed to be bailed out of financial ruin by a lovely friend, only to go through that again. Oy.

So we decided to sell the thing. It turns out that in the past four years property values have increased dramatically and we were able to cover both mortgages and net a little profit. Not skads, mind you, but enough be happy and make a dent in our credit card bills.

There was an offer on the house one day after listing, and everything fell into place.

And now we are finished with it. Thank you Jesus.

I will sleep well tonight.

THE FIREWORKS LOOK SO CLOSE

Yesterday was July 4. We were up early to drive over to Ennis for the big parade. This was our first time there (since we had only just arrived over this very weekend last year). Ennis is a town of somewhere around 1000 (give or take -- I haven't looked up official numbers). And let me tell you, this was a BIG deal. There must have been 3000 people in town for the parade and rodeo. Traffic was backed up for miles. It was pretty impressive.

The parade, though, not so much. There were several people/teams on horses, the obligatory color guard, a bagpipe troup, and floats and old time cars for miles. No drill teams. No bands. Only one group of clowns. Thrown candy was a rarity. Not even a pooper-scooper at the end of the line. I mean, I could only take so much of the same thing over and over and over and over again. I took a nap.

Luckily we managed to beat the crowds out of town. Mrs. Ref had a talk with one of the deputies on traffic duty and told him that we were going to VC -- the opposite way that everybody else and their dog was going. He let us right through.

We then spent the day in VC (my folks are visiting). Checking out all the shops, making reservations at the opera house for tonight (we're seeing "The Canterville Ghost"), and generally being tourists. I chatted with several of the locals, and it took them awhile to recognize me without my clericals and hat. Typecast forever, I tell 'ya.

Then we went up to the house of a VC parishioner for a bbq and to watch fireworks. They sit up on Boot Hill, just below the cemetary, so we are fairly high above the city. The fireworks were let off from the cemetary (not IN the cemetary, but from the parking area). These things went off almost directly overhead. In fact, some of the sparkling trailer things actually came down and hit the ground as they descended. They were really, really close. And really, really big.

I'm telling you -- you haven't lived until the porch shakes from the vibration of the explosion and the image of the display is burned into your retina. What a night!

I hope you all enjoyed your 4th as much as I.

SERMON
7 PENTECOST
PROPER 9A

If you didn't know any better, you might think that the gospel passage today came from John; and, indeed, it is often referred to as the Johannine passage. There is the bit about hidden and revealed knowledge, the Son from the Father and the Father in the Son, and the gentleness and rest found in Jesus. And it is because of this very un-Matthean style that makes it a debated passage. These may not be the exact words of Jesus, they may be from a totally alien source, or they may have been added at a later date.

But you know what? It doesn't matter. Regardless of who said it or who wrote it, it's in the canon and we have no option but to examine it and ponder it. When I read this passage, there are usually three stages that I pass through -- kind of like the seven stages of grief, but these are the three stages of Matthew 11:25-30.

The first stage is the "warm and cuddly" stage. "Come to me all you that are weary . . . . I will give you rest . . . . My yoke is easy and my burden is light." Aaahhh, that's so sweet. I have this vision of being on a trip where nothing goes right: you set up the tent in the rain and the dark only to find it upside down the next morning; your stove leaks gas threatening to incinerate the entire campsite; your food gets ruined; your hiking partner develops hypothermia; your car throws a rod and you walk for a mile in sub-zero temps to call a tow truck and walk back and wait in the car without heat for an hour before the tow truck arrives. Problem after problem, your feet hurt, you're cranky, you're sore, you're wet . . . . and then . . . . and then you find a hotel that takes VISA and you have a warm room with clean sheets and a hot shower. "Come to me all you that are weary . . . "

Then the second stage pops into my head. I call this the "dose of reality" stage. "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." Who is he kidding? Easy? You try going through seven years of school, dragging the family off to Chicago, papers, questions, doubts, fears, trying to find a shred of faith you can hang onto. Easy? I DON'T THINK SO.

And a light burden? School loans, creative bill paying, hoping that what your wife makes will be enough to cover at least the food bill. Or, like I've talked about before, trying to discern what God wants you to do, struggling with this whole Christianity thing, learning to make sacrifices so you can attend services on a regular basis, or re-budget your money so you can donate or tithe to the church to keep it open. This whole easy yoke and light burden thing is more like false advertising if you ask me. There is nothing easy or light about it.

Finally, there is stage three, the calm and rational stage. What is Jesus saying to me? How can we use this today? "Come to me all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens." Weary from what? What burdens? How about the weariness of always being expected to do what is right? Or the weariness of always living up to those expectations? Or how about the burden of having a man-made law that purports to be God's law hung around your neck?

Notice, though, that all of this weariness and all of these burdens come from ourselves or other people. Other people try to tell you what's expected, or are disappointed when you don't live up to those expectations, or devise rules and regulations that you "must" live by. And we allow that to build up, or believe that that is what other people expect from us. It's no wonder we are weary.

There's a key word that Jesus says in this passage, and that is "take." Jesus isn't telling us that we have to put his yoke on; he isn't giving us a burden to deal with. He is asking us to take his yoke voluntarily. And that makes all the difference in the world. Most people don't take something unless they want it. A new job, a hobby, even a thief takes what he wants.

Have you ever noticed that there's a basic difference between what you want to do and what you have to do? Yesterday I had to drive up to Flathead Lake to pick up The Kid. Up at 5, out by 6, there by 10, out by 12, home by 5. I would much rather have preferred to spend at least a day up there enjoying the lake, and I wasn't thrilled by spending that much time in the car. My back hurt, my knee hurt and I was tired.

But last month I had the family up at 5:30 and on the road by 6 two days in a row so we could drive back to Chicago. We went back to see some old friends, to renew old friendships, to see the class of '05 graduate, and to eat at some favorite restaurants. My back hurt just as bad, my knee hurt just as bad, and I was just as tired; but it was a trip we wanted to take.

Just like any hobby or job that you want to take up, Jesus is asking us to take up his yoke. If we want to take it, then we will find a way to make it work. Because when we want something, then the sacrifice doesn't seem all that heavy and the time spent with it doesn't seem to wear us down.

Yes, being a Christian is hard work, but if it's something that we truly want to take up, then Jesus was right: his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

SURREAL

I thought about what to call this post. "Lost Anonymity," "Too Cool," "Possibly Scary," and "Kind of Bizarre" were all titles that ran through my head.

Mrs. Ref and I are busy cleaning the house today in preparation for the arrival of mom and dad (nothing says clean like company). And truthfully, I should be there now but stopped off at the library for a quick post after getting my hair cut.

Anyway, we were upstairs getting the guest room/office into shape when there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Ref answered and a man we've never seen before asks to speak with me. She's thinking, "Oh great -- it's his day off and now he'll have to go do some pastoral type thing and leave me with the cleaning." Not quite.

Turns out that this guy is a priest from Louisiana (CDSP 1998 -- or was it 1993? I'm pretty sure it was 1998) who married a woman from Dillon (the town due west over the mountains). It also turns out that this guy reads my blog.

Regularly.

I have now had my first real-live, uninvited meeting generated by my blog. Wow.

And just in case said visitor thinks you freaked me out -- don't worry about it. It was really cool. Enjoy your vacation in Montana and maybe next time you're up I'll treat you to lunch.

Peace

THIS TIME IT'S FOR REAL

My regular reader may recall a previous posting about my being asked to be on the Commission on Mission Planning for the diocese. The plan is for this group to be available to meet with parishes around the diocese when they think they need some direction on where they are going.

I received an e-mail from the chair of the CMP asking if anyone was available to be in Big Fork to meet with their vestry. Their priest-in-charge has taken a new position, they have (or will have soon) an interim, and they are going to begin their search process for a new priest shortly. Our mission, should we choose to accept it . . . .

So, Mrs. Ref, the CMP chair and I will be making a visit to Big Fork. I'm still not exactly sure what I'm doing on this committee. I still feel like I'm pretending to be an adult. I still feel, at times, like this whole priest gig isn't real. I spend alot of time wondering what class on adulthood I missed. So what am I doing trying to advise other people when I don't feel like I've got my own life figured out? I just pray the bishop knew what he was doing when he asked me to be on the CMP.

And I pray that when I do go to one of these parishes, I don't do more damage than good.

So, we are trying to make sure that we have all the stuff in order to do this job. Hang on.