Something a little different this Sunday as we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Name as the Second Sunday in Christmas. That means Matins and Mass and hymns designed around Jesus' eighth day of life. Also, the Congos are invited to stop by at 10. I've even asked their pastor to tell us everything he knows about holy circumcision.
The lections may be found here.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
I Appreciate That The United Nations' Millenium Development Goals Are Important To Some, But This Is A Little More Urgent [And Compelling]
I discovered nearly thirty years ago that when clergy have nothing left to say about Christ, Christianity, or the Gospel and its relevance in contemporary life, they turn into politicians. Not in any obvious way, of course, but when you listen to a sermon that is mostly recycled talking points from one of the political parties, perhaps with a few references to God sprinkled into the text, you realize that the preacher has really just about shot his or her bolt when it comes to perspicacious spiritual commentary.
Similarly, when politicians get preachy, when they decide that they’ve become the moral voices of their society [don’t laugh, now], it seems clear that they’re either in political trouble or running for re-election. A few years ago, a prominent politician, who had promised that her party, when in power, would be the least corrupt in history, started to become remarkably “Christian” in her public speaking when it became obvious that her party had no intention of being any less corrupt than the former. Repeatedly, she would refer to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph as the “homeless family” whose needs would have been cared for by contemporary politicians. The irony, of course, is that the “homeless family” wasn’t homeless at all, but merely satisfying government bureaucracy, a census, by being forced to travel at great inconvenience to the birth city of Joseph. They actually had a perfectly good home in Nazareth and, if not for government requirement, Jesus would have been born indoors in his own family’s house.
So, it is with great caution that I approach a concern I currently have with a world situation, one that I think is under-reported and not entirely embraced by either church politicians or “churched” politicians. However, it is becoming apparent that the recent and dramatic changes in Middle Eastern politics, named the “Arab Spring” and “Facebook Revolution” by the more dewy-eyed members of the media, are creating difficult, outrageous, and impossible conditions in the lives of Middle Eastern Christians. Bombs detonate in Ethiopian churches during Christmas services; Christian women are taken from the streets in Egypt to be beaten or mutilated; members of Egypt’s Coptic Church are seeking asylum from persecution in other nations, especially the United States; Algerian Protestant churches are being closed by the government; Christians are immolated by mobs in Pakistan; anti-Christian violence continues to escalate in Iraq. Those of us who are not church leaders are beginning to find these circumstances more in need of address than the usual political boilerplate.
As there is no formal process of address, and as the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church has yet to make any cogent statement about these events [although, to be fair, her official website carries no more recent public statements than those from this past September], I find myself in that remarkable place inhabited by Christians aware of a great, even massive, injustice, yet without the wherewithal to address the circumstances politically. That means we will rely on the traditional power that we do have, which is that of prayer. However, as I recently stated in a sermon, “Sometimes prayer isn't simply sitting quietly where no one can hear you but God. The Baptist comes to mind this season, for example. Often it is forgotten that what he did by the Jordan was an act of prayer; defiant, raucous, red-blooded, and history-altering prayer.”
So, with that in mind, we will pray on Sundays, as part of our intercessions, for the Christians of the Middle East. I would also invite those interested in addressing this international situation to join with me in urging our diocesan bishop, who frequently enjoys world-hopping on church business, to aid us in organizing a more tangible program. We may also, through correspondence, see if the Presiding Bishop’s office is willing to use its influence with the White House to see that the considerable resources of our State Department might be employed to some effect.
But, in particular, reminded as we are that Christians in the Middle East live the same covenant and bear the same responsibilities to the Gospel as those of us in Roxbury, let us pray for our brothers and sisters-in-Christ, that God’s favor will deliver them from the all-too-familiar sins of tribalism, hatred, and mortal disregard, and that we may be empowered to act, too. As St. Francis once prayed, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary use words.”
Similarly, when politicians get preachy, when they decide that they’ve become the moral voices of their society [don’t laugh, now], it seems clear that they’re either in political trouble or running for re-election. A few years ago, a prominent politician, who had promised that her party, when in power, would be the least corrupt in history, started to become remarkably “Christian” in her public speaking when it became obvious that her party had no intention of being any less corrupt than the former. Repeatedly, she would refer to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph as the “homeless family” whose needs would have been cared for by contemporary politicians. The irony, of course, is that the “homeless family” wasn’t homeless at all, but merely satisfying government bureaucracy, a census, by being forced to travel at great inconvenience to the birth city of Joseph. They actually had a perfectly good home in Nazareth and, if not for government requirement, Jesus would have been born indoors in his own family’s house.
So, it is with great caution that I approach a concern I currently have with a world situation, one that I think is under-reported and not entirely embraced by either church politicians or “churched” politicians. However, it is becoming apparent that the recent and dramatic changes in Middle Eastern politics, named the “Arab Spring” and “Facebook Revolution” by the more dewy-eyed members of the media, are creating difficult, outrageous, and impossible conditions in the lives of Middle Eastern Christians. Bombs detonate in Ethiopian churches during Christmas services; Christian women are taken from the streets in Egypt to be beaten or mutilated; members of Egypt’s Coptic Church are seeking asylum from persecution in other nations, especially the United States; Algerian Protestant churches are being closed by the government; Christians are immolated by mobs in Pakistan; anti-Christian violence continues to escalate in Iraq. Those of us who are not church leaders are beginning to find these circumstances more in need of address than the usual political boilerplate.
As there is no formal process of address, and as the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church has yet to make any cogent statement about these events [although, to be fair, her official website carries no more recent public statements than those from this past September], I find myself in that remarkable place inhabited by Christians aware of a great, even massive, injustice, yet without the wherewithal to address the circumstances politically. That means we will rely on the traditional power that we do have, which is that of prayer. However, as I recently stated in a sermon, “Sometimes prayer isn't simply sitting quietly where no one can hear you but God. The Baptist comes to mind this season, for example. Often it is forgotten that what he did by the Jordan was an act of prayer; defiant, raucous, red-blooded, and history-altering prayer.”
So, with that in mind, we will pray on Sundays, as part of our intercessions, for the Christians of the Middle East. I would also invite those interested in addressing this international situation to join with me in urging our diocesan bishop, who frequently enjoys world-hopping on church business, to aid us in organizing a more tangible program. We may also, through correspondence, see if the Presiding Bishop’s office is willing to use its influence with the White House to see that the considerable resources of our State Department might be employed to some effect.
But, in particular, reminded as we are that Christians in the Middle East live the same covenant and bear the same responsibilities to the Gospel as those of us in Roxbury, let us pray for our brothers and sisters-in-Christ, that God’s favor will deliver them from the all-too-familiar sins of tribalism, hatred, and mortal disregard, and that we may be empowered to act, too. As St. Francis once prayed, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary use words.”
"As The Age Of The Physical Book Retreats, The Cult Of The Physical Book Advances"
I confess that this article, from Forbes, is a little on the twee side [The author's name is Trevor Butterworth, for heaven's sake. What, was "Percy Dovetonsils" already taken?]; in fact, it reminds me of one of those pieces I would have read aloud to some classmate or colleague back when I was a student or teacher of literature. Funny how distant that seems, now.
Anyway, an interesting starting point for a meditation on the changes to publishing and reading. Lately, I find that I use the Kindle for mass-market paperbacks, but still prefer a physical book when reading something heavier, such as works of theology, history, or big wave surfing.
Anyway, an interesting starting point for a meditation on the changes to publishing and reading. Lately, I find that I use the Kindle for mass-market paperbacks, but still prefer a physical book when reading something heavier, such as works of theology, history, or big wave surfing.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Universities In The Post-Modern Age
Harvard Pressures Freshmen to Sign a Moral Pledge
Now that higher education has abandoned its Christian [and Classical] roots, and with it any common format for broad moral discourse, it's interesting to note what administrators try to do to fill that vacuum.
Allow me sardonically to observe that as the post-modern distaste for Christianity on campus involves our religion's supposed "monolithic thinking" (only people of historical retardation would ever level that charge, btw), I am amused that the response to this at Harvard and other campuses is...a monolithic oath.
Now that higher education has abandoned its Christian [and Classical] roots, and with it any common format for broad moral discourse, it's interesting to note what administrators try to do to fill that vacuum.
Allow me sardonically to observe that as the post-modern distaste for Christianity on campus involves our religion's supposed "monolithic thinking" (only people of historical retardation would ever level that charge, btw), I am amused that the response to this at Harvard and other campuses is...a monolithic oath.
Arab Spring; Christian Winter
Categorized by theme, November's batch of Muslim persecution of Christians around the world includes (but is not limited to) the following accounts, listed according to theme and in alphabetical order by country, not necessarily severity.
More from the Wall Street Journal: Egypt's Embattled Christians Seek Room in America
More from the Wall Street Journal: Egypt's Embattled Christians Seek Room in America
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Surfboard Tales: Tripping Over Jerusalem
Because of the full moon, there was enough light to see that I had just tripped over
“I meant to tell you about that,” whispered Cokes. “This guy is some sort of Jesus freak. He’s got like a map of Bible stuff in his yard. Try to hold down the noise, willya?”
As I hadn’t yet recovered my breath, which had been knocked out when my solar plexus made contact with Jericho
“Yeah, the first time I came here I thought it was a miniature golf course,” Cokes continued. “Which would be kind of neat, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe it’s that, too,” I said with my first complete breath.
“Hey, that would be the gnarls. Come golfing at Jesusville! Sin-free until 7!”
With that he started to giggle, then cackle, then laugh so loudly that I expected lights to come on at the mansion house, illuminating me like Steve McQueen in The Great Escape.
“I thought I was supposed to hold it down.”
“Ah, never mind. Who could hear us over the surf, anyway?”
Which was true. The beach to which we were sneaking had once been the proving ground for many of the early surfing champions and their boards. It was here that skills were refined and informal experiments in board technology were carried out, leading to the advances in fin arrangement and board length and shape that marked the genesis of surfing as a mainstream activity, rather than a curious pursuit of some mildly shell-shocked World War II veterans.
Times had changed in this area since the 1950’s, however. What had once been a beach that was publicly accessible had become private property. For a couple of decades, the owner had placed a gate across the only entrance, which was a footpath, but generally left it unlocked. After a burst of thefts in the increasingly high-priced area, he locked the gate but let some of the area surfers have keys to it. Of course, by the early 1980’s the keys and their copies had made the rounds of the serious surf community from one coast to the other and back again.
By the 1990’s, though, the new owners decided they didn’t want scruffy surfers walking on their beach and using their ocean, so the footpath was landscaped over with rocks and new plantings, including some surprisingly mature trees, and every portion of the property surrounded by either brick, stone, or security fencing. Well, all portions except for one small opening in the ramparts where the brick and metal fencing did not quite mesh. This hole in the wall was a secret closely guarded by only about 100,000 surfers in the contiguous
Still, because of the proximity of the house to the beach, and the new owner’s rumored affection for firearms and pit bulls, the only time that anyone could get to the surf was during the middle of the night, and then only when the moon was full so that one could see the way and the water. The fact that this was the primo feeding time for the more aggressive sharks was usually not mentioned.
Cokes, whose nickname was earned not because of drug use, but because he was all but blind without glasses that were pop bottle-bottom thick, had offered to be my guide because, as he had noted earlier that day, “It’s a place of history, man.” So, with a cassette of “Surfin’s Safari” set on perpetual loop, we took his venerable Toyota pickup at 1 in the morning to the hole in the wall, squeezed through its opening with a couple of nine-and-a-half foot boards, and navigated our way over the Jesusville golf course to the place of legend; a legend well-earned. When I entered the water I had that same feeling I had when I first saw the Liberty Bell, or the time I shook John Glenn’s hand.
Surf beaches can change over time, either due to natural disaster, erosion of the bottom, or changes in current patterns wrought by those who claim to have the science to address such things. Some of the famous beaches, especially those in family-friendly areas, are no longer able to provide any experience of interest to the obsessed surf community, as they have been “improved” with jetties and other artificial construction so that maladroit, video-addicted children won’t hurt themselves in 12 inches of water. This beach, however, kept for nearly half a century in a state of suspended animation, still had the rhythm and power that made it a Mecca
After a few hours riding the evening glass, with dawn getting nearer, and with it the reality of guard dogs, handguns, and hypothermia beginning to claim our attention, we reluctantly left the beach, now almost too tired to lug the boards, not to mention play commando just to get back to the Toyota
With “Surfin’ Safari” once again playing on the pickup’s tinny radio, I thanked Cokes for this memorable participation in natural and living history. “Sometimes it’s worth tripping over Jerusalem
[Excerpt from Reading Water, all rights reserved ©2011]
[Excerpt from Reading Water, all rights reserved ©2011]
Monday, December 26, 2011
Dear Hollywood, Not Everything Is Special Effects
The other day some actor didn't respect the waves and almost paid the price. Mavericks, the waves in question, are the scariest things I've ever seen in my entire life. Kelly Slater, who is mentioned in the article, is the best surfer of his generation and maybe the best surfer ever, and he was almost killed there. An actor who is learning how to surf for a movie role doesn't stand a chance if this is where he decides to hone his technique.
[After reading another article about this, I was surprised to see that the actor was using a traditional longboard, which is also, along with inexperience, a certain way to hurt yourself at Mavericks. Now it may be that was misinformation, since most members of the media know as much about surfing as they do about firearms and Christianity, but who knows? Throwing away actors like this seems awfully extravagant.]
More about Mavericks may be found here.
[After reading another article about this, I was surprised to see that the actor was using a traditional longboard, which is also, along with inexperience, a certain way to hurt yourself at Mavericks. Now it may be that was misinformation, since most members of the media know as much about surfing as they do about firearms and Christianity, but who knows? Throwing away actors like this seems awfully extravagant.]
More about Mavericks may be found here.
There Was A Shortage In The 1st Century, Too
In fact, anytime after the mysterious disappearance of the city of Ubar, which was the frankincense capital of the Middle East once upon a time. [The mystery of its disappearance was solved in the late 20th century.]
A Shift for the Magi? Frankincense Shortage
A Shift for the Magi? Frankincense Shortage
Duh
TRENDING: Americans still prefer 'Merry Christmas' over 'Happy Holidays'
That's because it is not some random "holiday", the date of which was assigned by the government. It's an actual holy day with purpose, context and resonance.
That's because it is not some random "holiday", the date of which was assigned by the government. It's an actual holy day with purpose, context and resonance.
Clearly, Scotland Has Solved All Of Its Other Problems
Railway police to be taught sectarian hate songs
It would be much cheaper just to buy the police tickets to a Glasgow Celtic vs. Glasgow Ranger football match, as you will hear sectarian songs of such nimble vulgarity as to stand in awe of the English language.
It would be much cheaper just to buy the police tickets to a Glasgow Celtic vs. Glasgow Ranger football match, as you will hear sectarian songs of such nimble vulgarity as to stand in awe of the English language.
Even Santa Can't Catch A Break
Father Christmas busted by fun police
It appears that Australia is also descending into a nation of legalisms instead of laws.
It appears that Australia is also descending into a nation of legalisms instead of laws.
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