Are You Paying Attention, Primates?

From the Archbishop of Canterbury's invitation to the 2008 Lambeth Conference:

The Conference is a place where our experience of living out God’s mission can be shared. It is a place where we may be renewed for effective ministry. And it is a place where we can try and get more clarity about the limits of our diversity and the means of deepening our Communion, so we can speak together with conviction and clarity to the world. It is an occasion when the Archbishop of Canterbury exercises his privilege of calling his colleagues together, not to legislate but to discover and define something more about our common identity through prayer, listening to God’s Word and shared reflection. It is an occasion to rediscover the reality of the Church itself as a worldwide community united by the call and grace of Christ.

But the Lambeth Conference has no ‘constitution’ or formal powers; it is not a formal Synod or Council of the bishops of the Communion, which would require us to be absolutely clear about the standing of all the participants. An invitation to participate in the Conference has not in the past been a certificate of doctrinal orthodoxy. Coming to the Lambeth Conference does not commit you to accepting the position of others as necessarily a legitimate expression of Anglican doctrine and discipline, or to any action that would compromise your conscience or the integrity of your local church. At a time when our common identity seems less clear that it once did, the temptation is to move further away from each other into those circles where we only related to those who completely agree with us. But the depth and seriousness of the issues that face us require us to discuss as fully and freely as we can, and no other forum offers the same opportunities for all to hear and consider, in the context of a common waiting on the Holy Spirit.

Everyone repeat after the Archbishop: "the Lambeth Conference has no ‘constitution’ or formal powers; it is not a formal Synod or Council of the bishops of the Communion."

Again, class: "the Lambeth Conference has no ‘constitution’ or formal powers; it is not a formal Synod or Council of the bishops of the Communion."

Jeffri

Keeping Track While Traveling

I have kept a journal off and on since I was 10. For a long time I used three ring binders and college-ruled notebook paper. For the last few years, however, I've been using 8 1/2 x 11" spiral notebooks with a pocket divider for holding odds and ends. The journals have become a combination of journal and scrapbook, especially when I travel, as I will often tape things into them as I write. Over the years I have sometimes used a separate notebook when traveling. When I went to Germany as and exchange student, I kept my journal in a couple of 6 x 9" spiral notebooks. I used the same type of notebook for my first trip to Ireland, but for the second I took my regular journal rather than using a separate one.

Lately, however, especially when traveling on business and packing carry-on as much as possible, lugging my full-size notebook--even the spiral bound one--just takes up too much room. I started using a Moleskine Ruled Notebook for my writing journal (I have long kept a separate notebook of some sort for jotting down ideas, thoughts, and image for stories, poems, and other creative endeavors). For the trip to Ecuador, I thought I'd try something a little different. I purchased a set of Moleskine Cahiers and modified them slightly.

Somewhere years ago I read that instead of carrying an entire travel guide with you, you should photocopy the pages you need and discard them as you traveled and no longer needed those particular pages. While I did do that for the trip to Ecuador, I also thought I might like to at least have maps in my journal. This idea was somewhat inspired by the Moleskine City Notebooks. So I photocopied some maps and glued them into the Cahier. Inside the front cover is a map of the whole country.


This is how I solved the problem of fitting the maps onto pages that are only slightly larger than an index card (3 1/2 x 5 1/2"). These folded maps are of Old Quito and New Quito. Of course, they turned out to be pretty useless, as our hotel was north of the portion of New Quito shown on the map, and we were in Old Quito for only one morning.



This is how it looks with the maps unfolded.













Inside the back cover are a map of "central Ecuador," which covers most of the Diocese of Ecuador Central, and one of the Avenue of the Volcanoes, a portion of which we traveled on our way to Ambato.

And here they are unfolded.

I made three sets of two Cahiers--one for me, one for Ruth-Ann and one for Veronica. Ruth-Ann kept hers with her but didn't really use it. Veronica used hers for notes as we traveled.

I filled one of the Cahiers completely and started a second during our week in Ecuador. I wrote down my impressions, stories Javier told us, facts about the diocese and the country, information we would need when we returned to the Church Center, expenses, names of people we met, notes on the churches we visited, etc. One thing quickly became clear as I wrote in the Cahiers. The soft cover does not provide a stable writing surface. The next time I do this, I will use the hardback Ruled Notebook.

Peace,

Jeffri

More Pictures From Ecuador

Deep in the Andes the "blond, blue-eyed, anglo Christ" image persists.

















This is Cynthia, one of the children at Nueva Esperanza, carrying the fan we gave her.

















Students at the Canterbury School having lunch. The school is currently using the basement and Sunday School classrooms of the Catedral El Senor while a dispute over who owns the actual school buildings--located just behind the cathedral--is being settled.









Cristo Liberador, Quito (the blue building on the right) and its neighborhood. This is where we saw the goats, right in the middle of the city. Unfortunately, I was not quick enough with my camera to get a picture of them.










The Senior Breakfast at Cristo Liberador. Three days a week the church holds breakfast and prayer for the seniors of the neighborhood. They were waiting for us and greeted us with a round of applause when we stopped in to visit with them.









This is a Sunday School classroom at Buen Pastor, Quito. No commentary necessary.

















Mission Emaus, Quito, is literally a second story store-front. The lower of the two blue and white signs announces the Saturday health clinic












This is Emaus' worship space. I stood in the entrance to take this picture, so you are seeing 90% of the space.












The women's needlework project at Emaus. The display they set up for us is in the room directly behind the chapel--it serves as the "parish hall," among other things. Ten percent of the money they raise through the sale of their work goes to the church, with the other 90% going to the women.








Next to the parish hall is the one-room clinic. Again, I stood in the doorway to take the picture, so you are seeing almost the entire clinic in this shot. A doctor comes on Saturdays. Patients pay $2, if they can afford it, but no one is refused care. Medicine is purchased with funds that come from Christ Church Cathedral in the Diocese of Indianapolis.







At the end of the short hallway is the Sunday School classroom--one classroom. It also serves as a "drop in" center for neighborhood children. Except for the two small bathrooms, these five pictures show you all of Emaus' space.









I will post more pictures as I continue to sort through them.

Peace,
Jeffri

Finally, Some Pictures from Ecuador

I've finally downloaded the pictures from my camera to my computer. Here are some of the first ones.

Okay, so this is the obligatory tourist "the view from my hotel room window" shot. However, since most of Quito sits at approximately 9,200 feet above sea level, that mountain at the edge of the city rises up from there!









This is Mison Nueva Esperanza, about an hour or so west of Ambato, in the Pilahuin area. Here we were at nearly 12,000 feet up. The unfinished building is the church the community is building themselves. As they earn/collect/save enough money, they build the next section, providing all the labor themselves.








These are some of the people of Nueva Esperanza, who are Chibuleos. You can identify them by the men's red ponchos with braid trim and the white hats worn by both men and women. Their priest, Raul, is the man standing fourth from the left. He travels between his five missions by bicycle--in the Andes, he travels by bicycle!







Here you can see how much work they still have to do on the church: finish the roof, put in a floor, install a ceiling, windows... It will take approximately $12,000 to buy the supplies to finish the church building.










Not too long after we arrived, some of the men carried in the table and benches, and a couple of women laid the cloths over them. A few minutes after I took this picture, we were invited to sit down, and they served us a lunch of potatoes with a scallion sauce, cheese, and cuy (yes, that would be guinea pig). The surroundings may have been spare and unfinished, but the hospitality was warm and open.






That's my boss, Ruth-Ann, on the left. She's a Yankee fan, and look what we found even in the a remote part of the Ecuadorian Andes. The young man was very shy, but did agree to have his picture taken. He really wanted to get back to the volleyball game with his friends.








After leaving Nueva Esperanza, we drove downhill for about 15 minutes or so to Mision Resureccion, in the settlement of Resureccion. Here Ruth-Ann is giving some small gifts to the children who greeted us here. The people in this village are Salasanca--black ponchos and different hats.








This would be me. The picture was actually taken a couple of days later. Our driver, Javier, pulled into this scenic overlook and said it was a view that we absolutely had to see. As usual, he was right. However, we did have to watch out for sheep droppings. People keep animals even in the city limits. We saw goats being herded down a city street in Quito. I wasn't quick enough with the camera to get a picture.





I'll post more pictures as I sort through them.

Peace,
Jeffri

Adventures With American Airlines

Travel days tend to be long. The alarm woke me at 4:00 a.m. Quito time, which was 5:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time. I packed the last minute odds and ends, met my traveling companions in the lobby to check out of the hotel, and took the 5:00 a.m. shuttle to the airport. Although there seemed to be lines everywhere, we didn't seem to spend much time in any of them. First; an initial check of our passports; second, check in and get boarding passes; third, pay the departure tariff; fourth, go through security--after passing through a small maze of shops, of course. We had plenty of time to eat breakfast in the small cafeteria in the gate area. Then there were two more lines to endure. The first one was at the entrance to the gate area where they hand searched our carry on luggage and confiscated liquids that would have been perfectly allowable had we been departing from a U.S. airport, such as bottled water purchased inside the security perimeter. The last line, of course, was to board the plane.

The flight left twenty minutes late, and we were a little concerned, since we had only about an hour and 45 minutes to clear immigration and customs in Miami before making our connecting flight. Fortunately, the pilot made up some of the time during the flight. The longest wait we had during our time in the Miami International Airport was actually going through security again after clearing customs. The process of going through immigration, claiming our baggage at the carousel, and clearing customs probably took about 25 minutes. The we had to take the luggage to be rescreened, even though it was already checked through to New York. It probably took us another 10 minutes or so to get through security. Thankfully, the international arrivals terminal and the terminal our flight was departing from were right next to each other. We arrived at the gate for our flight to New York as they were boarding Group 2--we were Group 4.

They boarded the plane pretty quickly, and then we sat at the gate. They waited for several people coming from connecting flights. While it was annoying to be delayed, if I'd been one of those people making a tight connection, I would hope the airline would hold the plane for me. We left about 15 minutes late. I shared the middle row of four seats with a young family with two toddlers. It could have been a nightmare, but the younger one slept for most of the flight, and the older one entertained herself with her toys. The flight went pretty smoothly, and we landed only 10 minutes late. After that, things began to fall apart.

We landed at 6:15 p.m. and then taxied for half an hour. Well, some of the time was spent sitting on the runway, and the last pause was just short of the gate. The cabin crew chief thanked us for our patience, which by that point was beginning to wear a little thin. Especially since we realized that we were coming into a gate in an entirely different terminal than where we were scheduled to arrive. Little did we know.

We were told that our baggage would come in on Carousel 2. Then someone came to tell us that our bags would actually arrive on Carousel 1, but only after the luggage from another flight had been unloaded. Over half an hour, and still no luggage. Finally, the Puerto Rico flight's luggage began to appear. About 10 minutes later, without warning, Carousel 2 started up, and folks from our Miami flight saw their luggage appear on the conveyor belt. It came in dribs and drabs. So after an hour, many of us were still waiting for our bags. Of the four pieces Ruth-Ann and I checked, only one had shown up. Soon it became all too clear that there was no more luggage arriving, and about 50 of us were still without at least one of our checked pieces. So we began the longest wait of the day, standing in line at the luggage claim office to fill out paperwork. There were 50 of us and only two American Airlines employees behind the counter. It took at least 10 minutes, and usually more, for each customer to file their report. A Couple of people called customer service both to complain and to file their report with them. At that point, a third employee arrived at the counter to help with the line. I tried to call customer service, but the automated phone service kept cutting me off. I was about to try again when it was suddenly our turn at the counter.

Ruth-Ann and I maintained a calm and cheerful demeanor. It wasn't the fault of the employees at the counter. They actually had the system down pretty well. They had laminated cards with pictures of all types of luggage and colors to help them get descriptions of each missing bag. Ruth-Ann and I had each tied identifying ribbons (mine were crocheted rainbow ones) to our bags, so it will help identify them more quickly. The other two employees were asking folks to name three things that were in their bags, but the one helping us said that didn't really help identify the bags, because they weren't going to open them. They would match the numbers of the airline baggage tags, so why spend extra time getting an inventory. He also told us that this often happens on flights from Miami.

My driver from the car service arrived in the middle of all of this. It turned out to be someone who has driven me before, and it was nice to see a familiar face. He helped both of us with what luggage we did have, and he waited with it while Ruth-Ann and I waited in line and filed our claims. All three missing bags had Ruth-Ann's things, even though one of them was my suitcase. That way she avoided having to pay for an extra bag. By the time we filed the report and said our good byes, it was pushing 8:45, nearly two hours since we'd arrived at JFK. My driver had us on the road by 9:50, and I was home by 10:05.

Except for the gentleman at the luggage claim counter, most of the American Airlines employees we encountered during the day were terse, and some were even downright rude. And it would seem to me that, if they are experiencing this kind of luggage problem with their flights from Miami, they ought to be working on a solution rather than telling us that "Miami is always a problem." In the meantime, until they solve that problem, they should have more employees available to assist passengers in filing their claims.

Thus endeth the rant for the day.

Otherwise, I am glad to be home. I will try to post pictures from Ecuador over the next couple of days. But first, I am going to get some sleep.

Peace,
Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #6

Today was a "rest day." I put that in quotes because, while we were not working, we were still running around Quito for most of the day. Javier picked us up at 10:00 this morning, and we were off. We let him choose what he thought we should see, and his choices were excellent. There was one small piece of miscommunication, so we missed going to the big market for native artisans and crafts folk.

We actually drove through Quito rather than around it. This gave us an opportunity to see the Colonial section of Quito. Lots of narrow one way streets that open into large plazas. Also lots of churches. Our first stop was El Panecillo where a large statue of the Virgen de Quito stands. One story about the Virgen is that the chains on the statue are to keep her on El Panecillo and prevent her from descending into the Old City to join the festivities on May 24th from where she might return no longer a virgin. The statue itself is made of cast aluminum. The views from the balcony at the top of the base are fantastic. Just below the Virgen is an ancient Inca temple dedicated to the sun, which we also visited. At some point after we return home I will get pictures posted. Next to the Virgen workers were constructing an ugly metal framework soldier. Javier told us it was a temporary structure for the Independence Day celebrations on the 24th.

Leaving El Panecillo, we drove back down into the city and up Pichincha (they call it a hill...sure....hill) to the west. There we visited the Templo de la Patria. This huge, modern, concrete structure houses a museum dedicated to the Battle of Pichincha in which Ecuador won its independence from Spain on May 24, 1822. There were some wonderful views from the museum, but we were not allowed to take our camera in, as it is essentially a military institution. The soldiers, however, were polite and informative. There are wonderful symbolic murals and exhibits depicting the battles of the war for independence. These exhibits were designed with care and were quite easy to understand. Workers were sprucing up the grounds and the museum for the upcoming Independence Day celebrations, when the President of Ecuador will be visiting the Templo. There is a mausoleum in the museum, which was cordoned off. We asked Javier about it after we returned to the car. He said it is the tomb of Don Calderon, the child hero. He joined the army at 16 and at 17 was the standard bearer in the Battle of Pichincha. The legend says that he received more and more wounds, until he was carrying the standard in his teeth.

Then it was off to the Mitad del Mundo--the middle of the world. The Equator crosses Ecuador and Quito. There is a monument that is now surrounded by La Ciudad Mitad del Mundo. It could easily have been a tourist trap. Instead it was well thought out and designed with care. It was built as a small town around a plaza, with the monument to the west of it. There are restaurants, shops, and even a small church. We met Marco and his wife Dolly there for lunch, which we had in one of the restaurants. I had trout, which Dolly said Ecuador was known for. I also tried a local drink called chicha, which is made from fermented corn. The version they served us was made from parched corn that was ground along with cloves and then fermented with sugar cane juice. It was very good, but I only had one. Otherwise they would have had to carry me to the Equator.

We took the obligatory pictures of us straddling the Equator and then went up into the monument. You take an elevator up to the Observation Deck, which has wonderful views, although not quite as dramatic as the ones from El Panecillo. You descend by a staircase which winds through several levels of exhibits on the various ethnic groups in Ecuador. Again, the exhibits were well thought out and nicely designed. During our time in the museum we learned that on Tuesday we had met two separate groups of indigenous people in the Pilahuin area.

Because we missed the craft market, we spent the rest of the afternoon in the Ciudad shopping for souvenirs and handcrafts. Marco told us that the prices were higher here, but still good. Frankly, we were astounded at how little many of the sweaters and shawls cost, even the ones made of llama and alpaca wool. I spent less than $50 and will be taking home several Christmas gifts as well as crafts to give folks when I see them next. One of the things I bought for myself was a beautiful, red, alpaca wool poncho. When I started to try it on, the woman in the shop had to tell me three times that I was putting it on inside out. I'd wanted to look at it because of the beautiful design, and I'd only seen the INSIDE!! It will be perfect to wear at dance camps when it gets chilly in the evenings.

We finally left the Midad del Mundo so that Javier could drive us back to the hotel and go home to his wife. We couldn't quite decide where to eat and decided to take a look at the little pizza parlor just down the street from the hotel. It turned out that they had an upstairs dining room with a pretty complete menu of Italian dishes. I was translating the pizza menu for Ruth-Ann, with only minimal help from Veroncia, when the waiter returned to the table and said they had menus in English, which he handed to us. I still managed to order my entire meal in Spanish.

When we got into the elevator to return to our rooms after dinner, two men got on with us. They started speaking in French, and I had to stifle a laugh. Ruth-Ann asked me what was wrong, and I told her I'd tell her when we got to the rooms. One of the men got off on the second floor, and we got off on the fourth. As we left the elevator, Veronic said "Buenos noches" to the other man. After the elevator doors closed I said to her, "You realize that you said 'Buenos noches' to a Frenchman." She said, "Of course." Then I had to explain to them why I started to laugh in the elevator. I understood every word of the men's conversation, and I haven't spoken French in years. Ruth-Ann said it was because that part of my mind was functioning doing all the translating in Spanish.

It's late, and I have to finish packing. We are taking the 5:00 a.m. shuttle to the airport. Tomorrow night I will be sleeping in my own bed.

Peace,
Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #5

We spent today at the Diocesan Center, primarily in the Seminary. The Center and the Seminary occupy a converted house in a residential neighborhood, with the diocesan offices on the first floor and the Seminary on the upper floors. There is one large classroom for the Seminary that also serves as the chapel. There is also a smaller conference room. There are bunk rooms (and I do mean bunk rooms: two or three sets of bunk beds in a room) for the seminarians when they attend classes. They spend one weekend per month, arriving on Thursday and leaving on Sunday. Some of them travel up to 16 hours to get to Quito in order to attend these sessions. They do this for six months, followed by a four month break, and then repeat the cycle. A large enclosed porch serves as the dining room.

Our primary job today was to conduct a workshop for clergy and seminarians. One of the exercises we did was to create a time line of the history of the diocese and of Ecuador. Veronica and I put up a few facts about Ecuador and the Episcopal Church to get them started. They were surprised to learn that the first Anglican Church in America was founded only 400 years ago in Jamestown. Actually, they were surprised by a lot of things. As they worked, it quickly became apparent to them that they did not know much about the history of their own diocese. As a result they initiated a project, with which we will assist them on an ongoing basis, to prepare a history of the diocese so that they have one for future generations. One of the things that surprised me was that they noted the date women were first ordained in England, but not in the United States.

Ruth-Ann also led them through several communication and listening exercises. Again, they were surprised by what they learned about each other in the process. They also feel disconnected from the main body of the church. We brought some copies, in Spanish, of Summaries of the 2006 General Convention, which they had not yet seen. I'm not sure if this was because it had not filtered down out of the diocesan office, or if the information had never reached Ecuador. Or some combination of both. They crave information. However, they are also fiercely independent and proud of their culture as Ecuadorians.

They were pleased to learn that there is an ongoing project involving theologians and curriculum writers from Province IX to create a Spanish Language curriculum for the dioceses in Province IX, not just translations of material written for English speakers in the United States or material written for the Hispanic communities in the United States. Some of the clergy and educators have provided us with copies of material they have developed, which means that they are helping to inform the work of the Province IX curriculum writers.

After only four days here we are beginning to feel close many of the people we have met and worked with. Some of them we have seen several times, and relationships are developing. In spite of the language gap, there are already shared stories and jokes. For instance, the moment during the Wednesday workshop when Veronica turned to Ruth-Ann to translate a question into English for her and began speaking in Spanish. The look on Ruth-Ann's face was priceless, and one of the Ecuadorian women who knows very little English called out, in English, "In English, please!" The entire room burst out laughing. Or Raul who is still thanking us for coming to visit his missions in the indigenous communities he serves. Or Javier, who is probably the safest driver I have encountered in a long time, who keeps apologizing for all the sharp curves in the roads.

I have been stumbling along with my limited Spanish. Today I was actually able to carry on several short, simple conversations with folks. When I wasn't thinking in German or trying to translate into French, that is. It's an odd sensation thinking in two languages and trying to communicate in a third.

There is something that happens here that gives me great hope for the future of our church, not just in Ecuador, but throughout the Communion. I observed it most clearly Wednesday and today as we did the workshops. People will disagree and argue vehemently over even small things, yet they sit down to meals together as friends and talk about their families and what they have been doing since the last time they saw each other. Then we would go back into the workshop, and arguments would break out during some of the large group activities. Yet they would come together in small groups to accomplish a task by working together in a professional, and dare I say it, even a friendly manner. They are a community. They are a Christian community. Many of us in the Anglican Communion could learn a lot from these people.

Tomorrow we have a "free" day, and we will do some sightseeing and visit a native market to do some shopping. After all, we have to fill our suitcases with something after we emptied them of all the resources and clergy shirts!

Peace,
Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #4 - Bits And Pieces

Before we head off to the Diocesan Center for the workshop, I thought I'd jot down a few bits and pieces of things I've seen and experienced.

On the way to Ambato on Tuesday we passed three or four military bases. The military has quite a bit of power here, primarily economic at this time. They own vast tracts of farmland, which they themselves farm. They have their own schools and even universities. The military also owns some 28 companies here. Yesterday we passed one base that was in the middle of what appeared to be a lower middle class neighborhood. Except for the guard towers at the corners of the walls, it could have passed as a wealthier enclave in that part of the city.

When we were in the Pilahuin area, some of the people greeted us by offering their wrists instead of their hands. We later learned that because of the weather and their work, their hands often become dry and cracked--so much so that it they can be painful. However, it is not only the pain that causes them to offer their wrist, but also embarrassment. The traditional greeting is to put a hand on your shoulder as they shake your hand. Only recently have they begun to also give the kiss on the cheek that is common among the majority of Ecuadorians.

The soil in the area where we were on Tuesday is very black. They explained to us that it is no good for growing corn. The plant grows well, but it does not produce ears.

The only country where I've eaten more potatoes at mealtimes is Ireland. Of course, the potato originated in this part of the world, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The main difference is that the ones we have been served here so far are the small ones with red skins.

There are dogs everywhere. Most of them live amongst people, but they seem not to be "owned" by anyone. They are mutts, but sometimes you see the distance characteristics of individual breeds. On Tuesday I saw one that looked like a Cocker Spaniel. Yesterday we drove through one neighborhood where the majority of the dogs were German Shepherd mixes, with the look of the German Shepherd predominating.

Primary education--through the 7th grade--is mandatory here, but many children do not attend because they work to support the family, either by doing household or farm chores, or some sort of job outside the house. So far I have seen no children begging; instead they sell things. Of course, I have not yet been in the tourist areas of Quito, so I don't know if begging takes place there.

Yesterday afternoon on the way back to our hotel, Javier stopped at an overlook. A view we "must see." It was magnificent, even with the low clouds. In the valley below us was part of ever-expanding Quito, including some well-to-do neighborhoods. Marco told us that on the far side of the valley is an active volcano. If it were to erupt, everything we could see could be seriously damaged and even destroyed.

And now off to the Diocesan Center. More later.

Peace, Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #3

Today we visited four mission churches in Quito. I'm still not sure exactly where we were, but I think the first was in Quito Norte and the rest in Quito Sur. These are parts of the city few tourists see. We have been here three full days, and we still have not seen either the Mariscal or Old Quito (the Colonial area), which is where most of the tourists hotels and services are. The reason I'm not sure exactly where we were is that Javier, our driver, would go to roads that skirt the city in order to avoid traffic in the city itself. Quito is long and narrow, and the traffic is much like that in Manhattan. But not as bad as in Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic where driving is like playing one giant game of chicken!

We started our day at Cristo Liberador, which has the largest congregation in the diocese. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays the church provides breakfast and a prayer service for the senior citizens of the neighborhood. We arrived in time to greet the senior citizens and have our pictures taken with them. We also handed out the plastic bracelets we carry with us. The adults seem to love them as much as the children. The church also runs a food pantry for those who need food in the neighborhood. The neighborhood also supports and donates to the food pantry.

Father Raul (not the same one who was our host on Tuesday) gathered his educators to meet with us. Some of the young adults on the team took time from their jobs to be there. Others are unemployed. They were eager to share their programs with us, and we were pleased that they provided copies for us to take and share with others. It is important for those of us in the United States to remember that the culture in Latin America is different than the Hispanic/Latin culture in the United States, not to mention that they have different social concerns.

Raul has created two programs in the parish. The first is for "lifelong formation," and everyone who is interested in participating in the ministries of the church (vestry, teachers, even the acolytes) must take the course, but it is open to all. He said that some people who have completed the course have begun the process of discerning ordination to the priesthood. The second is a "Center of Bible Studies." In this class people learn about current methods of reading and interpreting the Bible. They bring in lecturers from other denominations to talk about their manner of interpretation, but the emphasis of the class is primarily on the Episcopal understanding of Scripture. Raul hopes to bring this program to the entire diocese. The Bibles they use most are the New International Version and Dios Habla Hoy (God Speaks Today).

Raul has produced booklets of the Book of Common Prayer services in large type for the seniors. He also has one on baptism that was very good. We could use something similar in English! He is working on booklets on First Communion and Confirmation.

Sunday school classes are two hours long, although they told us that often they could only get in an hour and fifty minutes. They were amazed that in the United States most of our churches only have 45 minutes to an hour for Sunday school. Adults meet Wednesday evenings from 7:30 to 9:30. Another group meets at one of the educators house on Mondays from 4:30 p.m. - 6:00 p.m., which is primarily seniors. A young adult group meets at 8:00 p.m. on Thursdays.

While we were in that section of the city, we saw people leading goats through the streets. Quito is growing very quickly, but there are still pockets of "rural" activity. Many places we saw patches where corn and other vegetables were being grown--some of them carved out in the oddest places. One of the reasons Quito is growing so fast is that ALL government offices and services are here. The government is only now planning to set up offices in other cities throughout the country. Today is also the first day I saw the blue hearts Marco told us about chalked or painted on the streets. The hearts mark places where fatal accidents happened and are done by an organization that promotes safe driving.

Our second stop was Mision Buen Pastor. We were supposed to meet with Juan Carlos, the priest who serves the mission, but he had been called away to do an emergency funeral. After a short tour of the building, we drove to Mision Reconciliacion. The church owns quite a bit of property, some of it prime commercial space, but most of it is empty. There is also a house on the property that was rented to an old woman by the previous diocesan bishop in such a way that the parish can't touch it until she either leaves or dies, not even to make repairs. The church is right by the old railroad station, which is currently unused. The railroad was all but abandoned after storms in the 1980's washed out the tracks in many places. There is a plan to repair the tracks and restore service on the Quito-Guayaquil line. Once that happens, the railroad station will also be restored, and the neighborhood will be renewed. The church is in a perfect location to both benefit and help with the revitalization of the neighborhood.

Juan Carlos also oversees this mission, so we missed seeing him there as well. Some of the staff met us to take us on a tour of the facilities, including one room that serves as a gathering place for prayer, counseling, and work for a women's ministry. They also served us a lunch of chicken, potatoes and salad (we didn't eat the salad).

As there has been over the last two days, and unlike our visits on Tuesday, there was a lot of talk about the politics of the diocese. The previous diocesan bishop, Neptali Larrea, ruled the diocese with an iron fist and was, as people have been learning more and more in the years since he left, corrupt. Bishop Ramos, the third and current interim bishop for the diocese, has his work cut out for him healing the people of the diocese.

Our last visit was to Mision Emaus. Lourdes, the priest in charge of the mission, gathered members of a women's cooperative she established there to meet us. They set up a display of their embroidery and crochet work. All of it was beautiful. The produced the altar cloth for the altar in the church. Ruth-Ann bought a couple of pieces. The money the cooperative makes from selling their work is collected in a "pool," from which 10% goes to the mission and the remaining 90% to the women who do the work. The mission also has a small one room clinic. A doctor comes once a month, and families from the neighborhood come for medical care. The cathedral of the Diocese of Indianapolis donates approximately $3,000 to pay for medicines for the clinic. The Sunday school room, as most of the ones we have seem, was pretty spartan, but the walls had a painting of Noah's Ark, and there were a table and chairs for the children. They have 12-18 children on Sundays, and many of them will stop in during the week because they know it is a safe place, and there are games and activities for them. Lourdes and her people accomplish a tremendous amount work in four rooms, which includes the small church.

During our travels today we observed a police officer taking a bribe. I'd read that this is not uncommon, but it was still a bit of a shock to see it actually happen. Police officers are paid minimal salaries, as are many people. For example, it takes $450 per month to feed a family of four. This does not include housing, clothing, or anything else, just food. The diocese pays its priests $400 per month, and that probably stretches the diocesan budget quite a bit. All the missions are in poor areas, except for the cathedral. There are no parishes in the middle class or wealthy neighborhoods. That means that financial stewardship is difficult, and the diocese and the mission projects depend on assistance from companion dioceses and churches in the United States doing outreach work.

Mission. Every church here falls under the category of a mission according to the canons and the practice of the Episcopal Church. However, the connotation of the word "mission" in this part of the world is work with the poor and the indigenous people of the area. That comes from the Roman Catholic concept of a mission. It might be beneficial for the growth of the Episcopal Church if they called their churches "parishes," even if only on the signs.

It is late, and we have a full day workshop to lead tomorrow, so I am off to bed.

Peace,
Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #2

Today involved much less travel than yesterday. Our first stop was the Diocesan Center, which is in a residential neighborhood not far from the hotel. The converted house holds both the diocesan offices and the seminary. We met most of the diocesan staff during our brief visit and were given a tour of the entire complex. More about the seminary on Friday.

From the Diocesan Center we drove north and east to the Cathedral of Our Lord. I knew that the cathedral had been designed by a Connecticut architect and built with significant contributions of money and material from the Diocese of Connecticut, so I was looking forward to seeing it. I was not prepared for the bright red roof! The building would not have been out of place in the United States, with different roofing, because it is one of those semi-A-Frame buildings. Inside, however, the space is wonderful. The stained glass windows are magnificent. Above the altar is not a crucifix, but a sculpture of the Risen Lord. They are still doing repair work to the building because the last diocesan bishop (there have been three interim bishops since then) neglected it.

We met with lay educators and clergy from the Quito area, and Ruth-Ann conducted a workshop for them. We began with a reading from First Corinthians, which I read in Spanish. It was my first time reading out loud in a public setting. By all accounts I did pretty well. The other member of our team, Veronica, who is from Honduras, said I read very well with a good accent. She encouraged me to study the language, something I will be doing soon, as we will be doing more work with the dioceses in Province IX.

It was interesting to watch the group work through the process Ruth-Ann gave them. By the end of the workshop it was quite clear that their hopes, wishes, and dreams were much like those of groups in many of the places we have visited.

We had dinner at a TGIF in the big mall across the main road from our hotel. It was quick, easy, but we still had to think in Spanish! The images and titles of the dishes in the menu were the familiar, but everything else was in Spanish. After dinner we wandered into the mall to find the Internet shop so Veronica could make a phone call at a cheaper rate than from the hotel. A mall is a mall is a mall is a mall. You could pick this one up intact, change a few signs, and drop it in any U.S. city without anyone noticing.

I'm off to bed. More tomorrow.

Peace,
Jeffri

Report From Ecuador #1

We arrived at our hotel in Quito late, because our flight from Miami was delayed. First we had to wait for the cabin crew, who were on a flight from Dallas/Fort Worth. I have never flown through that airport without experiencing delays. The crew arrived, and we were departing about half an hour late, but then we sat on the runway. It seems there was a problem with the automatic pilot, so they had to find us gate and have the technician meet us there. By the time we finally left Miami we were an hour and a half late.

Coming into Quito we could see lights, lights, and more lights. Today Marco, our host and guide from the Diocese of Ecuador Central, told us that Quito is a city of some 2.5 million inhabitants and growing rapidly. We could see the extent of the urban sprawl as we drove out and around the city today for our journey south. We passed not only Quito Sur (South Quito) but Quito Sur Sur! Quito sits at about 9,200 feet above sea level. Neither Ruth-Ann nor I have felt any effects of altitude sickness because we were given a drug to help prevent it. We should be able to stop taking it tomorrow. It does have one interesting side effect--our sense of taste is affected. Some things over the last couple of days have tasted very strange.

Once out of Quito we drove down the Pan American Highway to Ambato. We passed several active volcanos, although we could not see the tops of them because of the clouds. The corridor of the Andes along this stretch of the Pan American Highway is known as "the Avenue of the Volcanoes." There are several national parks in the region.

In Ambato we visited the Iglesia Episcopal El Salvador and its primary school. The school's 170 students, kindergarten through 7th grade, were gathered in the courtyard to greet us, with the 7th graders presenting the welcoming speech in English. We thanked them for our welcome, through a translator, and told them how pleased we were to visit with them. Then their teachers took them back to their classrooms so that we could visit each class in turn. The lower grades greeted us with a song in English, usually along the lines of "welcome, teacher." The 7th graders were in the school's computer lab (a project of the Diocese of Atlanta) working in PowerPoint. They were making slides that said, "My name is ______," and "Your visit makes today a special day." Before we left we were served a snack of fresh corn on the cob, mozzarella cheese and orange juice.

We left Ambato with three additional passengers: Heydi Mantilla, the priest of El Salvador, her daughter, and Raul Rivera, a priest who serves six missions in and around Pilahuin. He does three services on Saturday for three of the missions and three on Sunday for the other three. He travels by bicycle. In the Andes, he travels by bicycle! Traveling between the missions can take an hour and a half, if he is biking uphill, or 40 minutes, if he is going downhill.

We drove west from Ambato into the area around Pilahuin. The first mission we visited was Nueva Esperanza--New Hope--which is at about 12,000 feet above sea level. It is a community of indigenous people, and they are building their chapel themselves of cinder blocks, eucalyptus wood, and a tin roof. The roof is not complete, and the floor is dirt. When they hold services, the people sit on the floor. Just after we arrived, they brought in a couple of benches and a table, which they covered with a cloth. Everyone greeted us, eager to shake our hands and say hello. Some of them were quite shy. I was reluctant to take pictures, because everything I'd read in preparation for this trip said that the indigenous people did not like to have their pictures taken. But Raul told us to take pictures before we even asked. Some folks were eager to have their picture taken, while others slipped away. We listened to their stories about the church, the diocese, and the village. For most of them Spanish is a second language, their first being a Quechua dialect (I'll check the spelling of that later). Raul told us that there are no materials available in Quechua, not even the Book of Common Prayer. They served us a light lunch of potatoes with scallion sauce, cheese that tasted like cottage cheese but had the texture of mozzarella, and guinea pig. Yes, I tried guinea pig. It doesn't taste like anything else I've ever eaten. I was a little anxious about eating what we were served, but accepting their gracious hospitality outweighed any potential intestinal problems--and we have things to take for intestinal problems, if they should occur.

Because of the meal, we were late leaving Nueva Esperanza and so were late arriving at Mission Resurreccion. The Senior Warden arrived and announced our arrival over a loudspeaker that could be heard throughout the community. A handful of people showed up, mostly children. We toured the small church. The church is finished, but they are in the process of building a parish hall, which will also provide a place for the priest to stay overnight when he comes.

The third mission we visited was San Lucas in Pilahuin, although no one from the congregation was there. Lastly, we visited San Isidro in the village of San Alfonso. Once again, the Senior Warden used the church's loudspeaker to broadcast to the community that visitors had come. One of the women said that we should have let them know we were coming so they could have prepared (more food probably!). The showed us their little church and the new health clinic, built with assistance from the Diocese of Atlanta. Unfortunately, the clinic is not yet open because continued funding ceased due to problems in the Diocese of Central Ecuador that are only now being cleared up with the presence of Bishop Ramos as the diocesan bishop.

After leaving San Isidro, we dropped Heydi and her daughter in Ambato and then returned to Quito at about 7:00 p.m., smack in the middle of rush hour.

My overall impression of the churches and the people we met today is one of hospitality and a wish to be a part of the larger church. Our parishes at home could learn a lot from these mission churches.

More tomorrow, if I get a chance.

Peace,
Jeffri

Buen Viaje

I had a wonderful weekend at Dance Camp. I reconnected with old friends, met some new folks, and danced a lot. Well, not as much as I might usually, because I do not want to be over tired for tomorrow's travel to Ecuador. If I get a chance, I'll post from Ecuador, but I'm not sure what kind of computer access I'm going to have.

Peace,
Jeffri

For Travelers

O God, our heavenly Creator, whose glory fills the whole creation, and whose presence we find wherever we go: Preserve those who travel; surround them with your loving care; protect them from every danger; and bring them in safety to their journey's end; through Jesus Christ our Saviour. Amen. (BCP, p. 831)

The Road To Lisdoonvarna

I took this picture during my first trip to Ireland seven years ago. We were actually on our way toward Ballyvaghan, but I couldn't resist taking a picture of the road sign because there is a fiddle tune titled "The Road to Lisdoonvarna." It's one I play on my flute and whistle, and it's a tune played for contra dances.

This afternoon I'm on my way to Woodstock, Connecticut for LCFD's Spring Dance Camp for a weekend of contra dancing, English country dancing and country-western two stepping, which I'll be doing for the first time at this camp. The contra dances will be called by one of my favorite callers, Linda Leslie, with music by one of my favorite bands, The Moving Violations.

Contra dancing is similar to square dancing--both are called--but contras are done in lines with your partner across from you (most of the time). Look at this video to see what a contra dance looks like.

Here is a video of a square dance for comparison. It's of an 8th grade class learning to square dance--memories of grade school gym class, anyone?

And just in case you're curious, go here to see a video of an English country dance. While we won't be in 18th century costume for English dancing, many of us will be wearing hats, gloves and pearls in a variety of combinations.

And here a packing update:

This is what I am taking to Dance Camp. I can go to Ireland for two weeks in a carry-on, but I fill the trunk of my car for a weekend Dance Camp. Bedding (because we are usually at summer camp-type facilities), skirts for dancing, at least three t-shirts per day (because dancing involves sweating!), wet weather gear, warm weather gear, cool weather gear, musical instruments, and more.

This is what I am taking to Ecuador. If we were not taking a bunch of resources down to the diocese, I could pack in a carry-on. In spite of all the books in the two suitcases, neither of them weighs more than 40 pounds, which is 10 pounds below the maximum bag weight before you get charged for overweight bags



I'll be back late Sunday afternoon to check mail, have dinner with Mom, exchange luggage and get some sleep before heading off to Ecuador Monday morning.

Peace,
Jeffri

Of Statistics And Spanish

In college I majored in French and German. In fact, I was the only French major and the only German major in my graduating class. I took history, literature, and philosophy classes. I suffered through a year of required phys ed--well, not really, but PE was not something I figured I would be having to take in college. To complete my math/science requirement I took a semester of Calculus and a semester of Statistics. And Spring semester of my Senior year I took Spanish 101 in order to meet the minimum required credits to stay enrolled as a full-time student.

After graduating from Rockford College, I spent a year at the University of Wisconsin-Madison studying Comparative Literature. Then I moved back East and plunged into the workforce. I have had several jobs over the last 25 years. And what do you suppose I have used more than anything else I learned in college at each of these jobs? Statistics! Who knew? I took it because it filled a requirement without taking a lab science or a second semester of Calculus, and I liked the professor. Yet, professionally, it was the most beneficial class I took during those four years.

Even in my current job in Christian Education I occasionally need to use statistics. However, now I find myself using more and more on that one semester of Spanish I took 25 years ago. Who knew? Our office, and indeed, the Episcopal Church in general, is doing more and more work with the dioceses of Province IX. Province IX includes dioceses in Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Honduras, Puerto Rico and Venezuela. There are Spanish speakers in the office, but they cannot always take time to help me communicate with our folks in Province IX. Because of my background in foreign languages, I find that I can understand the majority of what I read--enough to get by in most email communication. To write emails, I rely on Babel Fish Translation on line--it requires a lot of tinkering with the English to get the translation close to comprehensible Spanish, and a lot of apologizing for my bad Spanish. So far we have not run into any major problems. I also understand quite a bit of what I hear, if the person speaks slowly enough.

In preparation for my trip next week, I have been having conversations in Spanish with one of the women in another department. She is a native speaker, and I've learned a lot--including how to say that I don't understand and need to have it repeated or put into simpler words. Hopefully, those conversations will prove helpful when I get immersed in the language next week.

In the meantime, the piles in the small room continue to grow, and the suitcases and tote bags have been pulled out of the closets. I've packed most of what I need for my weekend trip, and tomorrow morning I will pack everything but the last minute stuff for Ecuador.

Peace,
Jeffri

Is It Time For A Faire Yet?

My calendar says it's Spring, but the weather today was definitely early Summer--a sure sign that Renne Season is fast approaching. Is it any wonder my friend Rachel sent me an email saying, "Is it time for a faire yet?" My answer: "NOT SOON ENOUGH!" It was one of those days.

This picture is from the 2003 New York Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo, New York. I think this was the year Rachel and I took our friend Lisa to her first faire and helped her pick out her first garb. This year's faire does not begin until August 4th. NOT SOON ENOUGH!

The first faire of "the season" for us will be the Southern Connecticut Renaissance Festival, which is the closest one to us--in Ansonia, about a 45 minute drive. Sometime in the next month or so I will pull out my garb to make sure it is clean and to make any necessary repairs and adjustments. However, this faire does not begin until July 6th. NOT SOON ENOUGH!

This picture, also taken in 2003, is from our favorite faire, the Connecticut Renaissance Faire, which after a disastrous flood at the Woodstock Fair Grounds two years ago, relocated to Hebron. It runs from late September through late October. NOT SOON ENOUGH!

Our "end of the Season" faire is King Richard's Faire in Carver, Massachusetts. It was so chilly during the first time we attended it (closing weekend three years ago) that we each bought a cloak to wrap ourselves in. Because it is a three hour drive, we usually take Friday off and make a long weekend of it. Friday we visit some place within an hour's drive or less from Carver (one year it was Plimouth Plantation, last year it was Salem), Saturday we attend the faire, and Sunday we make a leisurely drive home stopping one or two interesting places along the way. King Richard's runs from the beginning of September until mid- to late-October. Definitely NOT SOON ENOUGH!

The Clutter Of Preparations

While the Anglican Communion implodes, there is still work to do. At the office I am rushing around trying to get the last details of our trip to Ecuador taken care of and ordering and collecting the last of the resources we will take down with us. Yesterday I had dinner with my mother and step-father. Since I was going, I asked if I could pick up Mom's large suitcase, because I do not have a large checkable bag for traveling--especially if I am taking all this additional stuff with me. She also said I could borrow her digital camera for the trip. Instead, I arrived to find that they had a late birthday present for me, a digital camera of my own. It was totally unexpected and something she didn't have to do. (You're the best, Mom!)

Usually, I try to leave my work at the office. Starting last week, however, that has been impossible as I bring stuff home to prepare for packing. My small room, which serves as my dining, dressing, and work room, is already cluttered with piles of things to be packed. Here is a picture I took with the new camera, with which I have a week to become familiar. What you cannot see is that there are actually two sets of piles, including some on the floor behind the table. Not only am I packing for Ecuador next week, but also for a recreational weekend away that was planned long before my boss thought about going to Ecuador.

Because my apartment is so small, it does not take much to make it look cluttered. Not making my bed in the morning means that the large room looks like a total mess. On the other hand, I can give the entire apartment (two small rooms, kitchen, and bathroom) a thorough cleaning in less than three hours. I plan on doing so Friday morning after everything is packed and before I head off upstate for my long weekend.

My desk at work looks less cluttered at the end of the day, primarily because most of the stacks that accumulate during the day get put in a rolling catalog case and carted home. If you were to stop by at lunchtime, you would find stacks of papers and books on all three sides of my cubicle. My coworkers have been ribbing me because of the unusual clutter.

Yes, my friends, this is what the conservatives in the Anglican Communion are afraid of: an openly gay Episcopalian man doing his job within the church structures. While I am passionate about the issues facing the Episcopal Church, and will continue to stay informed and express my views, there are times when I have more important things to do than worry about the likes of the Most Rev. Peter Akinola and the Rt. Rev. Martyn Minns playing "you're not welcome in my church." Pardon me, guys, I have to go organize this clutter and start packing.

Peace,
Jeffri

The Final Nail In Windsor's Coffin?

This afternoon Archbishop Peter Akinola, Primate of the Church of Nigeria, Anglican Communion, installed the Rt. Rev. Martyn Minns as the Missionary Bishop of the Convocation of Anglicans in North America. Both our Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori and the Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams asked Archbishop Akinola not to come to Virginia and perform the installation. But he did, and by all accounts it was a joyous service.

And the Windsor Report is now in total shreds. If it ever had a hope of being an instrument of reconciliation for the Anglican Communion, that hope went out the window this afternoon. No matter how many accusations of non-compliance have been aimed at the Episcopal Church, bishops from other provinces of the Communion have not ceased crossing provincial lines. The Primates in their Communique from Dar es Salaam basically refused to hold themselves or any other bishops accountable for breaching the same document they have been trying to ram down the Episcopal Church's throat for the last two-and-one-half years.

Here are two of the relevant paragraphs from the Windsor Report:

154. The Anglican Communion upholds the ancient norm of the Church that all the Christians in one place should be united in their prayer, worship and the celebration of the sacraments. The Commission believes that all Anglicans should strive to live out this ideal. Whilst there are instances in the polity of Anglican churches that more than one jurisdiction exists in one place, this is something to be discouraged rather than propagated. We do not therefore favour the establishment of parallel jurisdictions.

155. We call upon those bishops who believe it is their conscientious duty to intervene in provinces, dioceses and parishes other than their own:

• to express regret for the consequences of their actions
• to affirm their desire to remain in the Communion, and
• to effect a moratorium on any further interventions.

We also call upon these archbishops and bishops to seek an accommodation with the bishops of the dioceses whose parishes they have taken into their own care.

Instead of calling themselves to account, they proposed a "Pastoral Scheme" that, in effect, would have set up a parallel jurisdiction within the Episcopal Church. They should not have been surprised when the Bishops of the Epsicopal Church turned it down flat.

And now the Primate of the Church of Nigeria has come to the United States and installed a missionary bishop. As Mr. Rogers might ask, "Can you say hypocrite?"

Peace,
Jeffri

Facts? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Facts!

I'm having a "the media is screwed up beyond belief" day. It actually started a couple of days ago with the rumors that former New Jersey Governor Jim McGreevey would be entering General Theological Seminary in the fall. First it surfaced on one of my email lists, and then commentary and comments began piling up throughout the blogosphere. Nowhere could I find confirmation or the original source of the rumor, but it kept flying around the internet until yesterday afternoon when it was publicly confirmed by several reliable sources. This morning the story was plastered across the front pages of many New York metropolitan area newspapers.

Let's start with the newspapers. Most of them ran headlines that implied that McGreevey would be ordained as soon as he finished seminary. Few of the stories bothered to dig deep enough to report that he was actually starting seminary BEFORE completing the diocesan discernment process. That is not unheard of, but it is not a particularly "politic" path to ordination, since it flies in the face of the guidelines for discernment and ordination in most Episcopal dioceses. Facts went out the window in order to create a sensational headline.

Then there were the bloggers and the commenters. Conservative Episcopal and Anglican bloggers started highlighting McGreevey's past behavior and linking his entering the ordination process with what they see as the moral decline of the Episcopal Church. For the most part, these commentaries were fairly reasonable from the conservative point of view. However, rather than double checking sources and facts, the majority of them went ahead and made assumptions because the story provided them with an ideal opportunity to bolster their argument about the state of the church. The comments on these blogs were even worse. Many of them were attacks on the Presiding Bishop and the staff at the Episcopal Church Center, often in very nasty language. It got even worse after confirmation of the story.

The other story, which quickly became lost in all the McGreevey ordination hype, was the release of his ex-wife Dina's book and her very difficult story. Is it a coincidence that the story about the ex-Governor leaked into the public sphere at the same time? Dina Matos McGreevey's story is an important one, and it needs--and deserves--to be told. Instead, it has been buried in the sensationalist headlines of her ex-husband's supposed new vocation.

With all of this swirling around, I encountered still more media...abuse? overkill? stupidity? sensationalism?...on my way home this evening. I picked up a copy of the current Newsweek because the cover story on military chaplains caught my eye. Before I got to that article, I read the "Periscope" section, which had a story about a fax sent by one of Barack Obama's assistants who is employed by both his Senate office and his presidential campaign staff. The fax, sent from a machine in Obama's Senate office, violated the understandably strict rules about the separation of government business and campaign work. An anonymous person slipped a copy of the faxed memo under the hotel room door of a Newsweek staffer. While I believe the ethics issue of the fax is important to report, Newsweek also reported some of the contents of the memo. Was that really necessary? Did notes regarding his campaign strategy have any bearing on the report of the ethics violation? The report did make a guess as to one of the ways someone other than the recipient of the fax might have had access to it, but it did not question the anonymous informant's ethics. That does not make as good a story as one that seeks to pull down a public figure that the media has been building up for months.

Sensationalism over facts...

Not feeling particularly peaceful this evening,
Jeffri

Of The BCP, The KJV, And WS

I have a confession to make. I have a fondness for the 1928 Book of Common Prayer (BCP). Me, staunch defender of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer and proponent of expanding our liturgies beyond even its confines. And if we are going to use Rite I, we might as well use the service from the 1928 BCP, thank you very much. I also enjoy (gasp!) the King James version (KJV) of the Bible. I love the poetry and the literary qualities often lacking in many of our modern translations. And I like William Shakespeare's (WS) plays and sonnets for much the same reason, as well as his wicked sense of humor and ability to capture the human condition in the space of a few spoken lines of iambic pentameter.

However, I was 18 before I came to appreciate Shakespeare. I had read Romeo and Juliet three times before I was a junior in high school--the first time when I was 12--Hamlet twice, and Macbeth at least once. I slogged through them each time, struggling to understand the vocabulary enough to figure out what was going on in the plays. It was almost like learning a foreign language. The second semester of my senior year in high school I took an elective class in Shakespeare taught by a member of the faculty who also happened to be an actor. Suddenly, Shakespeare came alive for the 25 of us in that classroom. Who knew that the opening scene of Romeo and Juliet was so funny, or that the characters were throwing insults at each other like we did in the hallways of our school? Why hadn't anyone told us exactly what Hamlet was saying when he told Ophelia to "get thee to a nunnery?" It took someone to explain the first couple of plays we read that semester almost line by line before we started to see all of this. Once I had taken that Shakespeare class, the world of the King James Bible opened up to me as well.

And that is also the problem with the 1928 Book of Common Prayer and, for hard-core purists, even the 1662 edition. You need a professor to walk you through it line by line before you can fully understand and appreciate it. The more time that passes since 1600, 1611, 1662, and even 1928, the less accessible the language of the early prayer books, the works of William Shakespeare and the King James Bible becomes for us. And wasn't that a major reason for the Book of Common Prayer in the first place, to be accessible to worshippers in language they could understand? Even if the majority of the population in Reformation England could not read, they could understand the liturgy and the portions of the Bible read during the liturgy because the services were conducted in English--their English, not the English of Beowulf.

Language evolves, no matter what the purists (the Académie Française in France, for example) say or try to do to stop it. Proponents of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer will point out that it is not just the language, but the theology as well that changed when the 1979 Book of Common Prayer was written. I agree with them. The theology is different. As our understanding of God and of our relationship with God has changed, so, by necessity, has our theology, because if it did not, our faith and our church would stagnate. Nor did the Book of Common Prayer remain unchanged from it's first edition in 1549 until the Episcopal Church's 1979 revision. Even a quick comparison of the Lord's Supper (Eucharist) through the various versions will give you a feel for the changes.

Nor can we deny the fact that English politics also played a role in the development of the Book of Common Prayer from the very beginning. Just as they did in the creation of the King James Version of the Bible, which was first published on this day in 1611 (for a good look at the history of the King James Version, read Adam Nicolson's God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible).

So, while I can appreciate the 1928 prayer book and the King James Bible for many reasons, including their language, I do not really want to use them for worship on a regular basis. Just as I do not really want all of my recreational reading to be Canterbury Tales or Beowulf in their original English. I want to participate fully in the liturgy, and I cannot do that carrying a dictionary and translating every third word in my head!

Peace,
Jeffri

The Devil Is In The Definitions

In her letter to Archbishop Peter Akinola urging him not to perform the installation of Martyn Minns as a bishop of the Convocation of Anglicans in North America in the United States, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori wrote,

...such action would not help the efforts of reconciliation that are taking place in the Episcopal Church and in the Anglican Communion as a whole.

Reconciliation. It is an action Katharine has urged us to consider and pursue again and again. My American Heritage College Dictionary (2002, p. 1163) defines reconciliation as

1. The act of reconciling. 2. The condition of being reconciled. 3. See penance 2.

Not particularly helpful, except for the third definition, which I will return to later. Looking at the definition of the root verb, [to] reconcile, the dictionary says

1. To reestablish a close relationship between. 2. To settle or resolve. 3. To bring (oneself) to accept: reconciled himself to the change in management. 4. To make compatible or consistent.

It appears to me that Katharine and others are urging some combination of the first two definitions. They want us to work at repairing and rebuilding our relationships within the Anglican Communion so that we can eventually resolve our differences--or at least learn to live together with our differences. The conservatives (I use the conservative/liberal terminology with reservations, but I find the reasserter/reappraiser language even more problematic), on the other hand, are pretty clear that their view of reconciliation involves penance, as in "The Reconciliation of a Penitent" found in our Book of Common Prayer.

For many of us, however, reconconciling the Episcopal Church with the more conservative elements within the Anglican Communion looks more like the definition of [to] reconcile found in the Random House Webster's Unabridged Dictionary (2001, p. 1612):

1. To cause (a person) to accept or be resigned to something not desired.

In the interest of staying in community as a Communion, perhaps we might want to find a different word, one with a definition on which we can all agree. Of course, we should probably work on a common definition of Communion as well...

Peace,
Jeffri