7 from Venus

Just a quick between services post:

During the 8 a.m. service I noticed a new person in the congregation.  She had that "just in off the streets" look about her.

After service I introduced myself to her.  She informed me that her name was 7, and she was from the planet Venus who came here, with the rest of her people, before Venus falls into the black hole, like Mercury before it.  When that happens, then she will go to the planet Jerusalem where she will be the first to enter the heavenly gates of the new city.

Then she offered me her hand and, in a regal manner, instructed me to kiss her ring as a show of divine respect.

That was followed by a dissertation on how someone was playing subliminal messages that where destroying her body, beginning at her wrist and would I please pray for an end to this.

Just another day.

Sermon . . . Not

Today was my last day at the parish.  I'm taking this upcoming week off as vacation while I work on the last of the details before we leave town.  Consequently I didn't do any sermon prep this past week and decided I'd just do it on the fly.

Luckily it was an easy gospel lesson:

"Jesus said, 'There was a rich man who dressed in purple and fine linen and feasted sumptuously every day.  Outside his gate lay Lazarus, a poor man, who wished for even some scraps from his table and even the dogs would come and lick his sores'."

The parable goes on to say they both died, the rich man being everlastingly tormented for how he treated Lazarus, and Lazarus being delivered to everlasting life.

In my last sermon to the parish I said two things:  Not only are we called to care for the less fortunate among us (as the rich man clearly did not), but we are also called to SEE those who are less fortunate than ourselves.  We may not be able to help a person, we may not be able to get them off the street, we may not be able to house everybody, we may not be able to employ everyone, but we can SEE them.  We can recognize them as people.  We can, as our baptismal covenant says, "Respect the dignity of every human being."

Don't neglect to see those outside our gates.

Service was followed by a potluck brunch with some lovely parting gifts and well-wishes all around.  There were some tears.  There was some laughter.  There was the acknowledgement that we were all taking off on a new adventure.

Christmas Wars

In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel with him; they ravaged the Ammonites, and besieged Rabbah.
2 Samuel 11:1a

It is certainly not spring, but recent events caused this passage to pop into my head.  It seems this is the time of year when people go out to battle over anything that even remotely looks anti-Christmas.

People demand that store clerks greet customers with, “Merry Christmas,” instead of, “Happy Holidays,” under the false assumption that how store clerks greet customers has anything to do with Christmas.  Those people seem to forget that the buying and selling of merchandise during a holy season was one of the reasons Jesus overturned tables and drove out merchants.

We are beginning to hear cries of, “Keep Christ in Christmas.”  Two things always come to mind when I hear this: 1) if you want to keep Christ in Christmas, does that mean you don't have to pay attention to him the rest of the year?; and 2) this slogan totally ignores and devalues people of other faiths, or no faith, as we insist that everyone must acquiesce to the demands of our religion.

Another popular slogan is, “Jesus is the Reason for the Season.”  That is not actually true, as the celebration of Jesus' birth was assimilated into an already-existing winter festival commonly called Yuletide (the term Yule log is familiar to many).  And when, exactly, is this “season?”  not all that old, but I can remember the days when no store decorated for Christmas until after Thanksgiving.  But now . . . I saw stores beginning their Christmas preparations before Halloween.  I'm beginning to think the writers of the Charlie Brown TV specials had it right:  When Chuck and the gang go shopping for Easter eggs, they are greeted by Christmas decorations and a banner proclaiming, “Only 246 Days Until Xmas.”

This sentiment also shows a lack of knowledge in that the vast majority of people who make that proclamation remove trees and decorations, getting back to “normal,” within a day or two after Christmas Day, totally ignoring the traditional Twelve Days of Christmas.

A few weeks ago my Facebook feed was inundated with some ridiculous claptrap about Starbucks succumbing to satanic atheists out to destroy Christmas because – horror of horrors – their new holiday cups didn't include a Christmas decoration.  We have an overabundance of hungry people, refugees clamoring for protection, an unwillingness by many companies to pay a living wage, and red cups from Starbucks is what Christians are willing to go to battle over?

Everyone from Amazon to Walmart is gearing up for Christmas.  TV and radio ads are reminding us to shop early, put things on lay-away, or to get that “perfect gift for that perfect someone.”  If you haven't noticed, the only ones declaring a war on Christmas are those who are supposed to be honoring an unwed couple displaced from their home by government decree, wandering through the streets of a small town, being refused shelter at every turn, and who eventually give birth to a boy, and laying him in a feeding trough.

Which brings me to Advent.

The Season of Advent begins on November 29 this year.  It is a time of hopeful anticipation.  It is a time of expectant waiting.  It is a time when we look back and forward to the birth of Christ, as well as to his coming again in glory.  It is a time for us to slow down and prepare.

Advent is all about preparation.  So take the time to prepare for Christmas, but don't busy yourself in preparing for a battle that will never happen.  Pay attention to your traditions and don't get sucked into thinking Christmas is what the advertisers tell you it is.  Christmas will come, even though the breathlessness of the perpetually outraged will tell you it's in danger of not happening.  Christmas will come, because babies have a way of doing that.

Pay attention to Advent before you get carried away by Christmas.  Light a candle in the dark.  And if you want to go to battle, pray for the grace to cast away the works of darkness, for the strength to don the armor of light, and the patience to live in hopeful anticipation of the coming of our Redeemer.

Finals Weekend

This was Finals Weekend for me.

First, an inter-denominational continuing ed group I have been part of for the past two years came to a close.  It was a program through Fuller Seminary and is called a Micah Group (based on Micah 6:8 -- What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?)

This was sort of an experiment of sorts as it gathered people scattered from Portland to Ashland.  Over the two years we lost a few people due to theological issues or job issues, but we maintained a decent core group of people.  We would meet both in real life and virtually about once a month.

Friday was our last time together.  I'm not sure how many of them will read this, but it was a pleasure being with Mark, Steve, Dave, Murray, Randy, Joel, and Barbara.  Blessings to them all as we continue on in our various ministries.

Second, I worked my last football game of the season.  I didn't really work it, since I was the alternate (Should an official be unable to complete his duties, you will be called upon to finish the job).  But I rode up to the game with the crew, worked on the sidelines managing the chain crew for the Head Linesman so he could concentrate on the game and not the chains, we said goodbye to a 40-year official who retired after this game, and generally had a fine time.

It was a long, good weekend, but man is my brain fried and I need a nap.

I have one more meeting to attend, and then I think I will be going to bed.

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.

Funeral

I'm officiating at the funeral of a (yet another) long-time parishioner on Saturday.  She was days away from her 97th birthday and died roughly six months after her brother.  His death hit her hard, and she deteriorated quickly after that.  She had quite the life, did well financially, never wanted to be recognized for either her money or her charity and was a red-headed spitfire until the end.  I remember one visit I paid to her shortly before her death when she was giving the staff hell.  I gave her a stern talking to and that took care of that.

The funeral is Saturday.  The place will be packed and I pray I preside over the service in a way that the family finds meaningful.

May her soul, and the souls of all the departed, rest in peace.

Maybe he was right

In my last post I talked about the homeless guy who came into my office worried about the people speaking in numerals about numbers and something about 47 being evil.

I gave him a prayer for protection, a bottle of water and sent him on his way.

I didn't think too much about it at the time -- I've heard many people ramble on about all sorts of odd things.  But then I saw this.

Maybe he was right.

Revelation, Arlo Guthrie and Shepherd Book

We have been working our way through Revelation in our adult ed between-services class.  It's been a lot of fun, and it's been a good refresher on why we don't read the bible "literally."

We're getting to the end of the book, though, and we made it through the first half of Chapter 21.  Specifically, we ended at 21:8

But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted, the murderers, the fornicators, the sorcerers, the idolaters and all liars, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.

As I read that to the group, I read, "But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted, the murderers, the fornicators, the sorcerers, the idolaters, liars and all others on the Group W bench, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.


I couldn't help myself.  It just seemed like a spot to toss in the Group W bench.

Some in the group got it, others didn't.  For those who didn't, I ended up basically reciting "Alice's Restaurant" in a quick 3-4 minute synopsis.

I mentioned this to The Kid when we got home.  She wanted to know why I didn't add the people who were going to the "special level of hell."

For those who don't know what I'm talking about, you can watch the clip here.

I promised her I would revise my list this coming Sunday.

And this is why we only get through half a chapter a week.

You want who???

For some time now I've written a short meditative piece for the congregation and a few others that are on our e-mail list.  I do this in time for it to be sent out on Wednesdays and, as such, I call it "The Wednesday Word."

There's a link to it over there on the right if you're interested.

Anyway, these are just short little things that I send out hoping they will be inspiring or insightful or offer the right words when someone needs them.

One of the people on our e-mail list is a retired priest from CA who took a half-time gig for a couple of small congregations in the Diocese of Quincy.  He's been around far longer than I have and he has way more connections than I'll probably ever have.

Apparently one of those connections works at The Living Church and they asked him if he would be willing to participate, or if he knew of anyone who might be willing to participate, in a daily reflection based on the Offices.  This would sort of be like an online version of Forward Day by Day.

He recommended me.

So I have been in conversation with a guy at TLC about this project and it looks like it might take shape and become a reality sometime after General Convention.  So, yeah . . . look for me to embarrass myself on the national stage in a few short months.

The Best Laid Plans

Last week Friday I had a visit with a parishioner who was just diagnosed with a terminal disease, a lunch meeting with the Bishop, a hospital visit, and the SOU spring scrimmage.  Last Saturday I had to be at the church in Medford for an all day Diverse Church training session.

Mrs. Ref therefore designated today "Sleep-in Saturday."

That was a mistake.

At 6:45 this morning I received a phone call telling me that one of my parishioners had died.  So I was up, showered, dressed, fed and out of the house by 7:15.  Not bad, but not exactly her idea of sleeping in.

But prayers were said, people were comforted, and we move forward.

Oh . . . and there's no heat in the church.

I can't leave . . .

Ever since I've been in GP, bad things happen when I leave town. 

While on our latest vacation (as in, yesterday), I received word that my organist is in the hospital with heart disease and may or may not require surgery.  Either way, hard decisions are needing to be made.

Today I received a call from the daughter of occasional parishioners.  Her mother is in a Portland-area hospital on life support.  We may be making a hospital visitation on the way home tomorrow.

What is it with people around here when I leave town?

Last year one of our youth was in the hospital with a brain tumor.
Before that a parishioner died.
Before that, a parishioner died.

I can't ever leave.

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.

Ferguson, MO

In the wake of a white cop shooting a black teen, this is their response:



That looks appropriate . . . NOT

What the hell are these people thinking?

Things that make you physically sick to your stomach

About exactly one month ago we had a new organ installed at the church.  The short story is that the desire for a new organ was a long, drawn-out process that looked like it would never happen.  And there were debates about what brand and type of organ to get.

As it happened, we were gifted with a substantial amount that covered most of the cost of the organ.  So we now have a new Allen Q350 organ at church.  It's a really great instrument that will improve the musical quality of the parish.  It replaces an older electronic organ.

The new organ has something like 48 speakers spread throughout the building.  There is a set at the back of the church on each side, there is a set above the choir section on each side, there is a set in the sanctuary on each side, and there are two LARGE bass speakers that sit on the floor against the wall behind the altar.

Last Monday, December 2, we hired a guy to take down the four old speakers that were hanging from the ceiling.  When he showed up, I told him, "You need to take down the four old speakers and shelves.  The new speakers on the new shelves stay, and the speakers behind the altar stay.  You're only removing the old big ones."

I checked on him once to see how things were going, and all was progressing well.

TODAY . . . I had some former parishioners (as in, "We used to attend here 40 years ago") come in for a visit.  I was showing them around, getting them caught up and chit chatting, when I mentioned the new organ.

"Can we see?"

You betcha.  We went into the church, showed them the organ and pointed out the six banks of speakers and the two . . . WHERE THE HELL ARE MY BASS SPEAKERS????

Yep.  The two big (36"x18"x18") bass speakers were gone.  Just . . . gone. 

I tried to remain calm while also trying to get them out of the building.  I began making phone calls -- police, insurance, contractor -- covering all my bases.  While the cops were here, I heard back from the contractor.

"I thought you said to take ALL the big speakers."

"No."

"I'll try to track them down."

A few hours later, they were returned.  The organ company is coming through town this weekend and will re-attach them.

After all that, I need a glass of wine and a football game on TV.

Time Away

Next Sunday (not this coming Sunday, 10/27, but next Sunday, 11/3 {and yes, I always get confused when the sign says, Next Left or Next Right -- does that mean the next one coming up, or the next one after This One??}) is the Sunday that our bishop visits the congregation.  That means that next week (or this coming week {see, it's confusing}) I don't need to write a sermon.

This is good for two reasons:

1) The office could stand a good cleaning/organizing/de-cluttering.  The week before the bishop comes seems like the perfect time to do that.  After all, nothing says clean like company.

2) The Monday through Wednesday immediately after the bishop visits, I will be attending a continuing ed conference up in the Portland area.  It's actually west of Portland in the beautiful Columbia Gorge, but, considering the distance I'm traveling, it's the Portland area.  The theme of this gathering is entitled, "Freedom, Creativity, and Accountability in the Missionary Church."

It goes on to say:

Paul's letters acclaim freedom in Christ and that a new creation is everything.  At the same time leaders, interdependent with other members of the body, seek to be of one mind and often give up the exercise of some rights in consideration of others.  How do contemporary leaders negotiate the truth of freedom and the reality of corporate life together?  How can this dynamic of freedom and accountability be a creative tension the life of today's leaders?  What can we learn from one another's experience with this complex life in the church?

I received an e-mail inviting me to lead a Bible study around this.  I have 30 minutes, can choose whatever scripture and format I prefer, and am to "BE CREATIVE."

Crap.

The Bishop is coming

My Bishop is making his bi-annual ... semi-annual ... once-every-two-year ... visitation to my parish.

For some reason I'm more nervous about this particular visitation than any previous visitation I've ever had; and that includes my very first visitation after being called to Montana after my ordination.

Need to figure out how to relax.

Are you serious?

So I'm watching ESPN this morning between Morning Prayer and when I head back to the office for the day while I'm eating breakfast.

They were doing a report on the Baltimore Ravens who are not the same team that won the most recent Super Bowl.  This is because they've lost players to retirement, trades, the salary cap and whatnot.

They've also, apparently, lost a player to a vast amount of stupidity.

As it was reported on ESPN this morning, Jacoby Jones was on a party bus (stupid mistake #1) and got into an altercation that resulted in a stripper hitting him over the head with a champagne bottle.

What's that saying . . . "The stupid -- it burns."

Equal Time

The other day I posted about the Brazilian soccer official who was violently killed on the field.

Well, in the spirit of equal time, here's a video of a high school football game that got out of hand.  Luckily nobody was seriously injured and things didn't erupt into total chaos.

http://www.wgal.com/news/susquehanna-valley/lebanon/police-investigating-fight-during-friday-night-football-game/-/9704034/21857814/-/cu1i5j/-/index.html

I Officiate Football

That title is important.

I don't officiate futbol.
I don't officiate soccer.

This month in Referee, an officiating magazine I subscribe to, there was an article about a soccer match in Brazil that turned ugly.

In short, a referee issued a red card to a player.  The player attacked the referee.  In response, the referee pulled a knife and stabbed the player.  Following the stabbing, friends and family members of the player rushed the field, killed the referee, dismembered and decapitated him, and his head placed on a stake in the field.  The player who was stabbed died on the way to the hospital.

I really have no words to describe my feelings about that, other than sheer disgust.

Oh, and I officiate football.