Sunday, June 24, 2018

That's Right, Yankees. Not Only Do We Have Astounding Bats and Bullpen, but Our Team are Ninjas, Too

Yes, I Still Miss, Etc....

How Can That Be? It Would Mean the Media was [gasp!] Manipulating Us

I saw reports about the brutal conditions of border detainees, including photos of people sleeping on a floor wrapped in those aluminum foil-like "space blankets", and expressed concern about it to my two senators, Blumenthal and Murphy, and to the Episcopal Church's office of peace and justice.

Blumenthal sent me a rote response, Murphy nothing, my own Episcopal Church less than nothing.

Of course, that was in 2014 when the White House was occupied by those palatable to the senators and the Episcopal Church.  Now a policy that has been in place through the tenure of Bush and Obama is judged to be the most horrible thing ever, with crying professional protestors, rancid Hollywood vulgarians, and simpering clergy all condemning the practice, mainly because their preferred candidate lost and the White House is occupied by the perfect reflection of their own cynicism.

Yeah, I'm going out on a limb here, but I really don't think they care for any of these immigrants beyond their usefulness in political attacks.  This, too, is a symptom of our age's neo-Marxist ideology.

Saturday, June 23, 2018

Some Nostalgia

When I was a young priest, before the rapid and ubiquitous communication made possible by the internet, the clergy would receive a letter from the bishop once a month, except for August.

Each letter was a meditation on our theology, relationship with Jesus, and any number of other portions of our life within the covenant.  It was a reminder that one of the charges of a bishop was to serve as an educator to the clergy and laity.  This practice was a clear descendant from the letters of St. Paul and served the same purpose of keeping us united in perspective and pilgrimage, especially if dioceses were small in number of parishes, but huge in terms of square miles.  The bishops of my first two dioceses were masters at these epistles.

This practice moved into devolution about eight years ago, when The Episcopal Church leadership decided that we would primarily be participants in transient secular ideology rather than a spiritual expression that is far older and more eternal than the politics of the liberal wing of the Democratic Party and the weird mutant that is American Socialism.

These days all I ever receive from bishops are letters addressing the latest concern of the Democratic Party, awkwardly placed in a theological frame.  I never receive a theological reflection that isn't in response to a political concern that is also expressed by the media, half of the politicians, and the entertainment industry.

It's a pity that contemporary bishops deliberately secularize and constrain a role that once could represent a deeply resonating vividity and the power capable of liberating and educating all people, not just those who vote a particular way in American elections.

As the role has diminished, so has the church.

Friday, June 22, 2018

Bob Manry

This is what we think of as the first of the true Friday profiles, originally offered on July 20, 2012.  It is a particular favorite of The Coracle as we first heard Manry in the small undercroft of a parish church, as part of a regular Monday meeting of Troop 163 
of the Euclid, Ohio chapter of the Boy Scouts.  
We have never quite recovered.

Look at that expression above. That about sums it all up, doesn't it?

Robert Manry was an editor for The Plain Dealer, Cleveland's daily newspaper, back in the 1960's.  He had a mid-life crisis of sorts after being diagnosed with a heart irregularity.  Did he start of program of exercise and diet?  Sorta.  Did he boost his spiritual life through meditation?  Sorta.  Did he achieve new purpose and greater health?  Oh, boy, you have no idea.

You see, Manry bought a 15ft. sailboat [well, technically 13 feet, 8 inches] and decided, despite the fact that he was a novice freshwater sailor for whom Lake Erie was the largest body of water he'd ever attempted, to sail from Falmouth, Mass. to Falmouth, UK.  Yep, across the North Atlantic.  By himself.  In a 15ft. boat.  Named Tinkerbelle.

Like all serious American nutcases, he kept this intention mostly to himself.  No wonder, as his friends might have tried an intervention.  Or thrown a net over him.  When he asked for a leave of absence from The Plain Dealer, they said "no".  So, he quit.

In case you're wondering, he did make it.  Also, The Plain Dealer now found that their former employee was the toast of sailors around the world and much in demand by the world media.  Oops.

His story in brief may be found here.  If you want, you can still find copies of Tinkerbelle, his tale of the odyssey,  from used book dealers.

What made him a hero for me was that he spoke dramatically to our Boy Scout troop about his experience and inspired at least one of us to try to live the life of a waterman whenever possible.  In fact, I would eventually buy a later version of his boat myself. 

Thursday, June 21, 2018

Hypocrisy is the Currency of Politics

Endorsed and True

The Older, the Better: People age into happiness

Isn't It Time for That Asteroid to Hit Us?

Smartphone use blamed as water feature is bricked up: The Rill near London Bridge falls victim to health and safety for people on phones
It is not the first time that phone addiction has been blamed for having to adapt the public realm. A 20-ft statue of a pair of clasped hands erected outside Salisbury Cathedral had to be moved in 2016, apparently because people kept bumping their heads on it while looking at their phones. Artist Sophie Ryder wrote on her Facebook page: “We had to move [it] because people were walking through texting and said they bumped their heads!”