The Second

Last week I received a message from a parishioner complaining about the bulletin format and how it can be fixed.

I dubbed that "The First," as in, the first complaint by a parishioner about something I had done.

Today I got the second complaint.

When I was on a site visit to another congregation they had what they called a "Letters to God" program where the children could "send" questions or comments and the priest or Christian Ed person would answer them.  I really liked the idea and was looking forward to either a) participating in it should I be called there, or b) beginning a similar program should I be called elsewhere.

I was obviously called elsewhere and I've been working with our youth director and another Sunday school teacher to get it up and running.  Considering I showed up just before Advent, it wasn't exactly number one on the priority list.  But this past week it was finished and I received the first four letters.

Two were love notes to God and two posed questions.  One was, "Hi!  Wassup?"  The other one asked, "Why do we have incense?"  It's the second one that I will address in church.

And today I got a phone call from a parishioner wanting to talk about this program because he doesn't agree with it.  To be fair, I'm not exactly sure what his concern is because he wanted to have a face-to-face meeting rather than over the phone; and he did tell me what the general topic of his concern was so that I wasn't blindsided.  So I set up an appointment with him for next week to talk about the Letters to God program.

I will listen.  And I will ask him why he has a problem with allowing theological inquiries from children.  And we will hopefully come to an understanding that this is an okay thing.  Really.

Lack of Understanding

I am an administrator on the FB page of my new parish.  All that really means is that I have the ability to post things.

Like, for instance, last Sunday when it snowed, I got on the FB page and let people know about that, to plan accordingly, and be safe if you were driving in to church.

I received a call from a parishioner today informing me his wife had died (she was battling an illness and this was not unexpected, but still . . . ) earlier this morning.  I posted that information on our parish FB page.

Just got back from lunch and pulled up my internet tabs, and noticed this message on the FB page/tab:  "Congratulations!  Your post, 'Dear St. John's family, it is with sadness . . .' is performing better than 85 percent of all posts.  For $5 more you can boost this post to reach more people."

Methinks there's a general lack of understanding on the part of FB,

It's not just the Americans

On one hand, this makes me feel good in that it's not just the Americans doing/saying stupid things.

On the other hand . . . The Stupid . . . it burns.

A British MP had this to say about the Church of England's Commission on Climate Change:

A British parliamentarian has challenged the Church Commissioners’ stance on climate change and urged them to “read the Bible."  David Davies, the Conservative MP for Monmouth, told MPs that the parable of the oil lamps and 10 virgins in Matthew 25 supported the “cheap and ready supply of this much-maligned fossil fuel."

Just . . . Duh-AMMM

Click here for the full story.

Conflicted

Monday morning our sexton (that's janitor in church-language) told me that there was a "pretty good camp site going" behind the bushes alongside the building.

Oh goody.

I sat with that information all week, pondering what, if anything, to do.

On the one hand, homelessness in this town is a huge problem.  The Gospel Rescue Mission is always full.  It's also problematic in that they tend to make life difficult for people looking for shelter.  It has other issues as well, but I'll leave it at that.  The only other short-term shelter option is a warming center that is only open one night a week; and with the weather getting warmer, I don't know how long they plan on staying open.  People unwilling, unable, or not allowed, to sleep at the shelter find other places . . . various parks, city lawns, or nooks and crannies around town.  The camp that was set up on our property is well-hidden, so the people are protected from thievery and other attacks.  It provides soft ground, so they aren't sleeping on concrete.  And, because of the size of the bushes, it probably provides a decent, if not perfect, shelter from wind and rain.  In that respect, I'm glad there's a place for them.

On the other hand, there are at least a few issues I need to consider:
First, they never did ask for permission to set up camp on our grounds.
Second, safety.  We have parishioners who care for our grounds.  What might happen if they stumble upon the campers?  Are my parishioners safe?
Third, health.  I don't sleep through the night.  Where are the campers taking care of business, and are they reliably cleaning up the area?

I called the public safety department this morning and asked them to come take care of the site.  The officer who showed up told me that, because of how it's set up, it's classified as a "camp site" and he needs to post a 24-hour eviction notice.  I can live with that.  When the campers come back tonight, they will at least have the opportunity to remain in possession of their sleeping bags and food items.

"When did we see you homeless and not offer shelter?"

The place between the gospel and the real world can be a bitch sometimes.

We had a funeral here at the church last evening at 6 (yes, it made for a long day).  Our regular organist -- who is actually our volunteer organist since the death of our regular organist last year -- was unable to be here for the service, so the family found another organist to play.

He is also a jazz pianist, and that showed in some of the flourishes he attached to the music.

But .......... Oh ................ My ................ Lord .............

The opening hymn was, "Alleluia! sing to Jesus."

If you aren't familiar with the hymn, here's a good version, not exactly out of the Hymnal, but good enough quality to get the gist of how it's supposed to go:

With this organist, however, it went something like this:

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
layyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
breathe breathe breathe
sinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggggg
toooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
zussssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I was immediately worried that this would be a two hour service because of the pace of the music.

As it was, we managed to be home by 8.

Missed Calls

I have a hobby in which I am expected to be perfect from the first time I walk out onto the field and get better from there.

I have a job in which I am expected to be perfect from the time the sun comes up until the time the sun comes up the next day.

Every once in awhile I miss a call on the field.  Sometimes I know I miss a call because half the people in the stadium and everybody on one sideline lets me know I missed a call.  Sometimes I know I missed a call because either I get a sick feeling in my stomach that I missed something, or, after replaying the situation in my head, I realize I missed it.

Every so often I miss a call on the job.  Sometimes I know I miss a call because there is no shortage of people who let me know I missed it.  Sometimes I know I missed something because, upon further review, I realize I missed it.

Either way, I try to perform to the best of my ability.  Many times that is acceptable.  Sometimes it's not, and a call is missed.

And sometimes, when it seems like the stadium is raining down cat calls and questioning my ability, sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been a weatherman.

Seriously???

I received a couple of new games for next week.

For almost ever since I have been part of my current Association, I work exclusively in two positions:  Monday through Friday afternoon, I'm the white hat (meaning the Referee . . . meaning the guy you see on t.v. announcing the penalties); and on Friday night I work as the Back Judge (meaning my responsibility is from me to the goal line, however far that may be, and to rule primarily on pass interference).

Two spots.  Almost always.

And when I came into this Association, I told the assigning secretary, "I don't work Umpire" (meaning, the guy in the middle of everything who usually gets run over, meaning the position of the guy in Texas who was assaulted by those two nitwits).

And by now, you've figure out the reason for this post:

I'm working as an Umpire in a game next week.

Pray for me.

Babysitting

We are assigned games through an assigning website.  It's a convenient way to get your schedule, unlike the old days when we were handed out slips of paper with our games and then we had to go through and check our schedules to see if we could work, turning back games we couldn't and trying to pick up games we could.

The way it goes now is that, before the season, we can log onto the site and go through the entire season blocking out days, or parts of days, when we are unavailable.  The assigner then knows immediately who is available for games and who not to assign.

We get an e-mail notification when we are assigned new games.  We get onto the site, accept the games, and note when, where and what time the game will take place.  In short, I know about two-weeks in advance where I will be working every day of the week.

As a white hat (crew chief), I send an e-mail to my crew reminding them of the game, what the weather report is, whether we will be wearing shorts or pants, short sleeves or long sleeves, and about what time I will be at the game site.

Yesterday one of my crew did not show up for a game, so we worked it with three.  He just didn't show up.  There was no e-mail stating a problem.  There was no phone call or text.  Just not there.

After the game, I talked with my boss and told him of the no-show.

This morning we all received a message laying the blame for the no-shows on the white hat.  "Make sure you call your crew -- e-mails and texts are not working."

Um . . . IT'S NOT MY FAULT.  The guy KNEW he was working that day (he accepted the assignment).  I sent him an e-mail.  If he can't keep track of his own life, why is it MY PROBLEM to keep him straight?  (Know that Friday nights are different, because we often have to make travel arrangements to show up together, whereas weekday games we are all coming separately and often from our day jobs).

So . . . I called the guy today (because he's on my crew tomorrow) and said, "This is your friendly reminder from your babysitter about the game tomorrow . . ." in a not-really-friendly tone.

He said, "I didn't forget on purpose . . . "

I wanted to say, "Really?  What does forgetting on purpose look like?"

Instead I simply said, "Be there at 4."

I have a feeling he will be early.

GRRRRR

Went grocery shopping yesterday after services.  Grabbed the wrong keys and locked ourselves out of the house.

Made contact with a friend who has a key, and he unlocked the door for us while we were out.

Finished grocery shopping, loaded the car, went to leave, and the battery was dead.  Called a friend and asked them to come get our groceries and I'd deal with the car later.

One of the passersby whom Mrs. Ref asked if he had jumper cables, and had said no, came back by with a pair of jumper cables he had just purchased.

Our friend showed up just as he was coming by.  We transferred groceries.  The car started.  We got home and unloaded everything.

Called for a new battery this morning and got that fixed.

Came into the church and was just notified that our main sign had been vandalized.  Some young twerp decided it would be a good idea to spray paint over the word CHURCH.

Can I go home now????

Texas Shootout

From the NYT this evening:

Nine people were killed Sunday and others injured after a shootout erupted among rival biker gangs at a Central Texas restaurant, sending patrons and bystanders fleeing for safety, a police spokesman said, according to The Associated Press.

How's that open carry working out for y'all?

Head . . . Desk

Every Sunday morning I stand out front by the main doors to the church and greet people as they come in.

Today, as one of my parishioners was coming into church, she said, "There's a homeless looking guy hanging out in the parish hall.  Do you know about him?"

As a matter of fact, I do know about him.  He sort of planted himself here two or three months ago.  I allowed him to come in out of the cold.  I've given him something to eat out of the FISH box.  I've allowed him to wash his feet in the bathroom.  I've allowed him to sleep in the building during the day.

He can be sneaky quiet, so I need to make sure I go through the building to keep from locking him inside.

Anyway, Lee and I have sort of an understanding.  And, for the most part, he's been living up to my rather low expectations (as in, clean up after yourself, don't hassle people, clean up after yourself and clean up after yourself).  Last Thursday he wandered into the parish hall while we were holding our Lenten soup supper.  I was pleasantly surprised when everyone there pretty much invited him to grab some soup and sit down.  Some of what I'm preaching might be sinking in.

But then again . . .

"Yes, I know about him.  That's Lee."

"Oh . . . he's the 'regular' that you've told us about."

"Yes."

"Well . . . that can't continue."

"Oh?  Why not?"

"Because pretty soon there'll be another, and then another and then the place will be full of them."

"So?"

She just looked at me like I was nuts and went on in.

Maybe today's sermon was just what she needed to hear.

That Bible study

Several weeks ago I began doing a Bible study at a retirement/assisted living facility.  One of my parishioners lives there and she invited me to take over the time slot that had to be given up by another person.

I decided to begin with Matthew because I might as well start at the beginning.

The first few sessions were a little slow as they were getting to know me and I was getting used to using my outside voice inside.  They now know me and seem to enjoy having me there, and I think I've got the volume figured out.

Generally speaking, it's a good group.  But it also has "that guy" in it.  The group is dominated by women, and he's either one of two or one of one men who come.  I haven't figured out if he's intentionally difficult, if he wants to show off for the women, or if he's not all there.

When we talked about the baptism of Christ, he piped up:  "How did Matthew know about it if he wasn't there?  And why are we studying the writings of someone who wasn't there?  Shouldn't we be studying the word of God instead of the word of Matthew?"

When we got to the temptations, he said, "I can resist anything but temptation," and started to talk about why that was important, but I got to him first and redirected us back to where we needed to be.

And when I let the group know I wouldn't be in next week, he wanted to know if I had so little regard for scripture that I needed to take the day off.  When I pointed out that even Jesus occasionally took some time away from his busy schedule, and that God rested on the seventh day, he remarked, "Yes, but that was God."

I'm learning to redirect and cut short, politely of course.  I'm also making the prayer for patience part of my Monday routine.

Spam Bots

My blog is now apparently the target of spambots.

This weekend I received notifications that there were two comments awaiting moderation.

"You have a great blog.  I sincerely enjoy reading it and hope you visit my blog soon -- viagra kopen."

First clue to the spambot -- it comments on posts from nine years ago.

Second clue to the spambot -- they are overly concerned with ... um .... enhancing ... my life.

Methinks I'll return the security setting to include word verification.

Pandora's Box

This can't be good.

Officials in an Oklahoma high school football playoff game incorrectly administered a penalty, thereby negating a winning TD and causing that team to lose the game.

The situation has gone to court, and now a district court judge will be ruling on the case.

You can read all about it here.

Was the penalty administered incorrectly?  Definitely.

Did that change the outcome of the game?  Definitely.

But sometimes bad stuff happens that doesn't go your way and you need to deal with it.  Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes you get screwed.  Some days you're the hammer, some days you're the nail.

The point is, if this case is upheld it will give every person and every team a legal reason to cry, "Foul!" and, "That's not fair!" and run to a lawyer and the courts every time there is a real or perceived bad call that kept them from getting what they felt they deserved.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not defending the crew here.  They made a terrible mistake.  There really is no excuse for a game official, let alone five of them, to not know the penalty enforcement on a relatively easy situation -- we aren't talking any of the really screwy stuff that can sometimes happen when that oblong, pointy ball starts bouncing around the field.  And I've read on a couple of forums that the crew has been disciplined by the powers that be and that there will be at least one, maybe two, officials who has/have chosen to retire from officiating, never to work another game again.

That is a terrible way to end a career and those five men will have to live with that mistake the rest of their lives.  And no court decision will ever allow them to get over it.

Sometimes life just sucks.  If the Oklahoma court upholds this appeal and decides to replay the game, or award the victory to the aggrieved team, I can guarantee you life will suck even more.

Especially for the men and women in stripes.

Not doing that again

One of the local production companies in town did "Young Frankenstein."  The prop manager is a parishioner, and asked if they could borrow my thurible for a particular scene.

"Sure, no problem.  Just give the church a credit line in the program."

It came back this past Sunday in a mess.  The chains were all twisted and knotted up and one of them had come unhooked somehow and then re-linked in a makeshift manner.

Mrs. Ref and I spent some time Sunday after church getting it untangled and unknotted, and then I remembered to bring my needle-nose pliers and made the final repairs.

The days of thurible stardom are officially over.

Non-football Football Injury

Yesterday I worked a double header at the local high school.  I was the Referee for the JV game and the Back Judge for the varsity game.  I asked the crew to be on site around 2:30 so we could do a short pre-game.  Due to work schedules, this isn't always possible, and the guys wandered in one at a time, all arriving by 3.

The temperature at kickoff was in the neighborhood of 100 degrees.  Ish.

Between games we went into the storage area where we had met before hand to grab our gear and move to our regular locker room.

The storage area contains all sorts of things you'd expect -- chains, yard markers, down box, blocking dummies, etc. etc.  One of the things in there was a large, two-wheeled thing they use to brush the field.  It has a long neck on it with a bolt that is obviously used to connect to a four-wheeler or golf cart, and was tilted at a 45 degree angle and about four feet off the ground. 

I must have been tired and not paying attention very well, because when I bent down to get my bag I slammed my head into that bolt.  I immediately dropped to the floor and sat their with my hands on my head.  Yeah . . . .that's gonna leave a mark.

The good news is that I didn't bleed all that much and the cute trainer came in and took care of me.  What little bleeding there was stopped quickly, and I don't appear to have any permanent damage.  I apparently do much better on the field than off it.

Josh Gordon

The NFL has suspended Cleveland Browns wide receiver Josh Gordon for the entire 2014 season for failing yet another drug test.

The reports I've heard have said that he had a drug problem in college and that the Browns knew about it when they drafted him in the supplemental draft.  The NFL runs on the premise that if talent is greater than the problems, the problems can be overlooked.  It would appear that Gordon's problems are now outweighing his talent.

As one NFL veteran has said, you need to screw up a whole lot before a suspension is handed down.

Whether or not you agree with the suspension, or with how the NFL handled it, I found Gordon's statement to be along the lines of, "Really??"

I'd like to apologize to my teammates, coaches, the Cleveland Browns organization and our fans.  I am very disappointed that the NFL and its hearing office didn't exercise better discretion and judgment in my case.

You've got a drug problem.  You've been busted multiple times for using illegal drugs.  You continue to use illegal drugs while working for a company with a well-known drug testing policy, and you're upset that the NFL didn't exercise better discretion and judgment?

Methinks Josh Gordon should get a better handle on the meaning of discretion and judgment.

Really?

Sometime around 2009, the NFHS (the governing board of high school athletics) approved the use of those black pants with the white stripe to be used in cold weather games.  In 2011 they said that those pants were to be the standard uniform.  This meant that we were no longer wearing those white knickers.

I'm not going to get into whether or not the pants are good or bad or better or worse than the knickers.

This is about the supply companies.  I got an e-mail from one vendor who was advertising a "starter package" for football officials.  It included: hat, two shirts, flag, beanbag, whistle, AND KNICKERS.

Why anyone would pay $95 for a starter package that included something we haven't been wearing for five years is beyond me.

Really?  Does this place think football officials are stupid?

All Done

Every first Thursday of the month for the past two years I've held a Reel Theology/Movie Night at the church.  We do a potluck dinner at 5:30 and then a movie at 6:15.  Movies have included the Toy Story trilogy, The Matrix, Crimson Tide, Hoosiers, and a bunch of others.  It's a good way for people to look at life and art and ask, "Where's God in there?"  And it's a good way to begin developing that skill beyond movies and into real life -- Where do we see God in here.

Or, at least, I think it is.

My congregation, however, apparently doesn't feel that way.  I'm not quite sure what the reason is -- wrong night, wrong time, anti-potluck, wrong movie choices, whatever -- but attendance has, if I'm honest with myself, been steadily declining since the first movie night two years ago.  Last night our attendance was officially zero.

I can find plenty of things to do on a Thursday night other than sit around an empty parish hall wondering what it takes . . . especially during football season.

So . . . last night was the official end of Reel Theology/Movie Night.

Next?

Cooling Trend

I heard on the radio today that the temperature will be 105, and then we will experience a cooling trend this week:  103, 101 and 99.

I don't think those words mean what they think they mean.