What Not To Wear, And Who Cares?

Shortly after I returned from lunch yesterday, Jonathan called to see if I wanted to get together for a bite after work. Or would it be too late for me in terms of getting home, if I had to wait around until he finished work? Two simple answers. Yes. No.

A while later I was in the rest room and happened to look in the mirror over the sink while washing my hands. I'd done laundry Tuesday night, and I was wearing exactly the same shirt and slacks as I'd worn Monday, the last time Jonathan and I got together for dinner. If I hadn't said anything at dinner, he wouldn't have noticed. "I'm such a guy," he said. The conversation moved on.

It has been a long time since I've had someone to talk to about music, and especially about the playing the flute. We've been playing about the same number of years, but he's had more formal training as a musician (including things like theory and composition) than I have. He's also been more intentional about practicing for the past couple of years. I'm playing catch-up. Or at least it sometimes feels like that. But it's nice to have someone to talk to about practicing.

Actually, it's nice to have someone to talk with about all sorts of stuff.

I might actually get to like this dating stuff.

Peace,
Jeff

Did We Do It?

Another early train into the City and a walk across town to get to the hotel. First thing on my agenda upon arrival at the NFA Convention was the attempt to break the Guinness World Record for the World's Largest Flute Ensemble. I joined some 2,000 other flutists in the Broadway Ballroom of the Marriott Marquis to rehearse, first with one of the event organizers. James Galway was in Times Square filming a segment to introduce the attempt. When he arrived, we played "Happy Birthday" for him in honor of his 70th birthday later this year.




Then Sir James rehearsed us. He seemed to spend more time with the first flutes, but some of us in the fourth flute section decided it was because they needed more work than the rest of us. At 10:05 we did the "official" performance for the record. Did we break the it? We don't know yet, they're still counting the registration forms.

Here's a short story from NPR on the event.

Once again, I found that it makes a big difference playing with other musicians. What I didn't think I could play through, I managed to play with minimal mistakes. Not to mention hearing all four parts live. Incredible!

The lecture I attended after the--hopefully--record-breaking performance was somewhat anticlimactic. More than that, it bordered on boring. Kate Clark's presentation on the Renaissance Flute, which consisted mostly of overheads (yes, she used an overhead projector!) of works of Renaissance art depicting musicians of all sorts and excerpts of Renaissance music, fell flat. It is possible to present such material in more interesting ways, as demonstrated by Rachel Brown yesterday. Perhaps Ms. Clark's performance later in the day was more interesting, but I was playing in the flute choir reading session at the time.

The next workshop I participated in was Brian McCoy's Irish Music on the Boehm Flute (the flute most of us are familiar with today). I learned a couple of things I didn't know before, and it was a fun workshop.

When I checked my phone messages after the workshop (unlike some people, I turn my phone OFF during workshops and performances) I had a message from Jonathan suggesting a place to meet. As I was composing a text response, he arrived outside the meeting room. We walked over to 9th Avenue and had lunch at Island Burgers. We talked a lot. We're about the same age and both college educated. We both work in education--he as a tutor at a college in lower Manhattan. And, of course, we both play the flute, although our specific interests are a bit different--he likes Jazz, while I tend toward Baroque and early classical. He's also an artist. At one point I asked him, "Is there anything you don't do?" He laughed and replied, "Many things."

I'm still not sure what it was that sparked his interest. He said he'd first noticed me in the Exhibit Hall and more or less screwed up his nerve to follow me out and initiate a conversation. I'm glad he did. And I'm glad I was open enough to engage in the conversation.

We're hoping our schedules work out so that we can have lunch again tomorrow.

I did try one instrument in the Exhibit Hall this afternoon. Brian McCoy had what turned out to be an aluminum Soprano D Whistle. I found the booth and asked to see one of the whistles. It played like a dream and had great sound. However, the $190 price is a bit beyond me at this point. If I were playing regularly with a dance band, I'd consider it. My plastic Susato does just fine, and I know a couple of professional Irish musicians that play Susatos.

Peace,
Jeff

Present Tense, Past Participles, And The Pluperfect

I spent most of my weekend in Barnes & Noble sitting in the cafe and reading. Mostly I read books on language, including Arika Okrent's In the Land of Invented Languages and Marty Grothe's Oxymorinica. I took notes in my handy dandy Moleskine notebook on things that interested me from both books but also some ideas to think about for Treth, Inlig, and Hinlig.

Treth? That would be a language spoken by the Traders who carry goods throughout the Jevanite Empire and surrounding countries.

Inlig? Most likely the language of Osnia before it was sundered.

Hinlig? The result of an influx of Mithel Tretha speakers who settled down in an area of Inlig speakers. It really serves an a forerunner for still developing language.

Confused? It's one of my pastimes: creating languages for the imaginary planet I've been noodling around with since graduate school (the first round). And, as usual, research and developing geography, history, and cultures are more fun than actually writing a story. I may get around to writing stories at some point, but the creative process of developing geography, history, and cultures provides me with a lot of enjoyment.

There are many different ways of constructing languages, and you can find a number of sites on the Internet devoted to Conlangs. Conlangs have a rich history, including Esperanto and the languages created by J.R.R. Tolkien. Tolkien created a world for his languages. I came at it the other way around, having already created a world. So, what would happen to language if you dumped refugees from Western Europe and North America on an uninhabited planet?

I started with the languages I know well, English, French, and German, which led to the development of Treth. At first I just worked on vocabulary and sound shifts, but it didn't take long before I realized that I really needed to spend some time on grammar. Somewhere in the depths of the Internet sits a translation of the Babel Text into an early version of Treth. Once I had some basic framework in place for Treth, I turned to looking at how an English-only language might evolve, which resulted in Inlig. And what about some of the descendant languages interacting? Now I have Hinlig, which is evolving on its own into an as yet unnamed language.

I was getting ready to start on a French descendant when I wondered what would happen if I threw in some Breton. Or Catalan. And let's not forget Spanish. What about orthography, how the languages are written?

As you can see, this can keep me occupied for a very long time. It's a fairly inexpensive pastime. Most of my research I can do on the Internet, in the library, and in local bookstores. A few vocabulary and grammar SparkCharts and BarCharts Reference Guides, notebooks, and pens, and I'm good to go.

Peace,
Jeff

A Dying Art?

The August 3rd issue of Time (which came out on Friday July 24th) contained an article titled "I'm 26 years old, and I can't write in cursive," by Claire Suddath. It's an interesting look at the decline (she calls it "the death") of handwriting in our modern culture. Suddath notes:

I am a member of Gen Y, the generation that shunned cursive. And now there is a group coming after me, a boom of tech-savvy children who don't remember life before the Internet and who text-message nearly as much as they talk. They have even less need for good penmanship.

And later:

penmanship has almost no bearing on job performance. And aside from the occasional grocery list or Post-it note, most adults write very little by hand... We are living in the age of social networks and frenzied conversation, composing more e-mails, texting more messages and keeping in touch with more people than ever before. Maybe this is a trade-off. We've given up beauty for speed, artistry for efficiency. And yes, maybe we are a little bit lazy.

I do a lot of writing on the computer, this blog for example. And often it is faster and more efficient. But sometimes, I find it necessary to write a draft or two by hand in order to put my thoughts in order. I also hand write my journal in a notebook. I tried writing on the computer and then printing it out and putting the pages into a three-ring binder, but it seemed mechanical after a while, and I gave it up.

I have no problem text messaging, tweeting on Twitter, or using Facebook to connect with friends and colleagues, though I probably don't "Facebook like a native." But there is something about writing by hand that speaks to my mind and my soul.

Maybe it's my generation--I'll be 50 in January--the tail end of the Baby Boom easing into Gen X. I don't share most of the Boomers' common memories, and my world view has more in common with the Gen Xers. It's like having a foot in two worlds, and hopefully, that experience will keep me flexible in adapting to change and not becoming stuck in my ways.

Peace,
Jeff

If It's Wednesday, I've Adjusted To Eastern Time

After three days of taking it easy and doing next to nothing, I think my body is back on Eastern Daylight time. I must also be recovering from 15 days of go-go-go because I'm beginning to think about things I have to do over the next couple of days. Yes, the To Do List is rearing its ugly head:

• Laundry
• Grocery Shopping
• Birthday Present Shopping
• Make Phone Calls
• Finish Unpacking
• Copy the new apartment keys so people have spares
• Balance the Checkbook
• Update the parish web site

Well, I did go for a walk today.

Toward the end of General Convention I realized that it is a lot like Dance Camp only less often, a lot longer, and not as renewing. It is a community that comes together periodically and creates its own time bubble. It is a place where I see people I haven't seen in a while and pick up pretty much where we left off the last time.

It's also a lot different. We Episcopalians have not learned to live together with our differences. We don't do a good job of supporting and nurturing those with whom we disagree or have little in common with other than the fact that we call ourselves Episcopalian. And decisions at General Convention impact peoples' jobs and vocations.

After seven years of involvement in the institutional church at a "higher level," I once again find myself asking, "Why is it that I want/need/could possibly tolerate that white plastic band around my neck?"

Peace,
Jeff

Post Convention - Day 1 (Saturday) DISNEYLAND!

Saturday morning, Convention over, and we still had to get up early. Susan Bek of the Diocese of Los Angeles, with whom we worked to plan, design, and implement the Children's, Infants', and Toddlers' programs, arranged for everyone involved in the those programs and the Discovery Center to have breakfast at Club 33 and a Park Hopper ticket for the day. We gathered outside of Guest Relations beginning at 7:30 and were escorted into Disneyland, down Main Street, through Adventure Land, the French Quarter, and into Club 33 for a wonderful breakfast in a private dining room.

Here are Ruth-Ann, MerLynne, me and Kathy on the balcony of the dining room:


Followed by the obligatory outside the front door shot:


The four of us spent our day with Trudy and Joe Ardizzone, who worked tirelessly on the Discovery Center. Joe played tour guide. We got a fast pass for the Indiana Jones ride and then went here for our first ride of the day:


After years of seeing the ride on TV, beginning with the Wonderful World of Disney as a kid, I finally got to experience the Pirates of the Caribbean in person. Lots of fun, and the only ride on which we managed to get wet. From here we went to the Jungle River Cruise, which was fun mostly for the boat driver's corny jokes. Then Indiana Jones! Three rides in an hour, not bad for a sunny summer Saturday.

Then it was on to Tomorrowland for Star Tours and Astro Blasters, followed by a trip on the Monorail. And what visit to Disneyland would be complete without a visit to, yes, It's A Small World:


After a stop for Mickey ears (you thought after 49 1/2 years before getting to Disneyland I'd come home without hears?) and lunch, we exited Disneyland and went across to the plaza to California Adventure, which is built where Disney's parking lots used to be. An aborted trip to the Ferris wheel and then the California Screamin' roller coaster. By that time I was getting hot and a little crowd-weary, but we had fast passes for Soarin' over California. That was great! It also refreshed us. We had ice cream (no sugar added butter pecan for me) while watching the Pixar parade.

Back to Disneyland for the Finding Nemo submarine ride (which used to be 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea), and then our final ride for the day, the Haunted Mansion:


We were planning to leave before the fireworks, but shopping took longer than we expected, so we stayed to watch Tinkerbell and Dumbo flying over the castle along with the fireworks.

I can't believe I stayed the whole day and enjoyed it! I figured that by lunch I'd be ready to pack it in. But I really had a good time. I could go back.

Oh, one more button for the collection:


Peace,
Jeff

Independence Day / Travel Day

Okay, first things first. Here's a not so good picture of me, but it shows the new haircut:


The van arrived five minutes early with three passengers already aboard, and there was one more pick up after me. We arrived at JFK at a little after 7, but since US Air was the last stop, I didn't get to the terminal until about 7:20. I was through security and at the gate by 7:35. I couldn't believe the number of people at the airport. Who would have guessed so many people would be traveling on this holiday. Our flight from JFK to Phoenix was full.

After a quick lunch in Phoenix, we boarded our flight to Orange County. An hour in the air, 20 minutes to collect checked luggage, 30 minutes on the van, and we were at the Anaheim Marriott. Ruth-Ann and I are on the fourth floor of the Oasis Tower. For some reason they put me in a handicap accessible room. It is almost identical to the room I had in Vancouver, although it is even a little larger. It is definitely bigger than my apartment.

We met MerLynne in the lobby at 5:30 to review and update our schedules for the next two weeks. MerLynne will be our "handler," making sure we know where and when we are supposed to be. She will also make sure we eat meals and take breaks. We will try to make sure she does the same.


We met up with our colleague Clay and Trudy and Joe, who are two of our key Discovery Center team members. We walked to a nearby pizza place for supper. They had Hawaiian Pizza on the menu--pineapple and Canadian bacon. I hadn't had that since college, so feeling like a trip down memory lane, I ordered it. It was definitely an improvement over Gerry's in Rockford.

After dinner we walked a few blocks to Downtown Disney to watch the fireworks. It was not the optimal viewing spot, but we saw fireworks. It is now almost midnight Pacific Daylight Time, which means I have been up for 22 hours. I didn't want to go to bed any earlier, because I'd have awaken at 3:00 a.m. Now I should sleep through to 6:00 a.m. local time.

Happy Independence Day!

Peace,
Jeff

One Day And Counting

I've dusted everything in sight. I've vacuumed the rugs and washed the kitchen and bathroom floors. The bathroom and kitchen have been thoroughly scrubbed. Before I leave in the morning, I'll put fresh sheets on my bed and fresh towels in the bathroom.

I returned my library books. I picked up the last few odds and ends for the trip. I put oil in the car. I even bought one thing not on my list. Wal-Mart had oscillating fans on sale, so I picked one up. I threw out ancient hassock fan last Fall. It had been my grandparents', and it served me well for many years, but it was on its last legs. I haven't needed a fan yet, but it will be full summer when I get back from Anaheim. I also made sure to pick up some healthy snacks to put in my carry on in case we get delayed.

I even managed to get my bags packed before my usual midnight timing.

So far, so good.

Then I cut my hair. I've been doing it myself for a few months, and this evening I made my first major mistake. When you keep your hair fairly short, the only correction for a mistake is to shave it down. Basically, I have stubble. On the positive side, it will be very easy to take care of while I'm at General Convention.

I checked in and printed out my boarding passes. I'll need to check my large suitcase when I get to the airport.

I'm all set to join 8,000 Episcopalians and others in Anaheim.

A lot has happened since we gathered in Columbus three years ago. "Emergent Church" has become a part of our vocabulary. The economy has gone south. The number of states with legal same-sex marriage has grown. Dioceses have pulled them selves out of the Episcopal Church and affiliated themselves with other Anglican Provinces. The Presiding Bishop initiated a reorganization of the Church Center Staff. All of these will come into play at General Convention.

California here we come.

Peace,
Jeff

I Have A Purple Crayon

A couple of months ago several of us attended a writing workshop as part of the process of redesigning the Episcopal Church Center Program Groups' web pages. The instructors placed boxes of crayons on each table and asked each of us to choose one to use in marking up samples of the text on our current web pages. As the Associate Program Officer for Children's Formation, I chose the purple crayon from the box. My colleague Ruth-Ann caught the reference immediately.

I have been pondering Harold and his purple crayon since then. When Harold finds he needs something, he draws it. Once he draws it, he immerses himself in it, and sometimes it doesn't go as he planned. But he never stops drawing, never stops doing.

I want to be more like Harold. He creates, lives in that creation, and continues to engage that creation when it takes on a life of its own. What would it be like to live as Harold does?

What would it look like if a community chose to live as Harold does?

What if I could say:

I have a purple crayon, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Peace,
Jeff

15 Years, 16 Months

I have pretty much absented myself from the blogosphere for the past two months. Not only have I written any posts, but I have not been reading the blogs I regularly follow. Early this evening, looking to see something more just news reports on the Anglican Consultative Council meeting in Jamaica, I perused some of my favorites. One of those is Episcopal Cafe, where I found this post titled "The Rev. Pookie."

Written by a father about his daughter and her ordination to the transitional diaconate, which took place last year, during her middler year of Seminary (something they do in the Diocese of Iowa). Both the writer, Howard Anderson, and his daughter, Kesha Brennom, are friends of mine, and I have worked with both of them in a number of different capacities in the Episcopal Church. Howard and I currently serve together on the board of directors of the National Association for Episcopal Christian Education Directors. Kesha served briefly as the Staff Officer for Children's Ministries and Christian Education at the Episcopal Church Center, in other words, she was my boss.

It seems hard to believe that the woman-child I sometimes had to coax out from under her desk will be ordained a priest later this year. Or that the friend who headed my discernment committee 13 years ago is now a parish priest in the Diocese of Washington. Or that the young man with whom I attended two years of Education for Ministry is now a vocational deacon in our diocese. Or that I have been on hold in the ordination process for 12 years this month.

Well, not entirely on hold, but it has been a long, long road, and will continue to be a long road no matter what the outcome. The road has been longer than it should have been in what many of us in the process--or have survived the process--see as an abusive one. And at what point does one say, "Enough!" and get out of an abusive situation? When do we shout, "the Emperor has no clothes!"? When does God answer us when we cry, "What are You thinking?"

So here I am filling out my second application for Postulancy as Kesha prepares for her ordination to the priesthood.

Sixteen months...

Peace,
Jeff

Of Growing Older

I spent the afternoon visiting an elderly friend while her husband went out for a couple of hours. They are both in their 80's, and he is the primary caretaker. It was a gift to both of them as well as to me. He appreciated some time for himself, and she appreciated having someone else to chat with. She did most of the talking and kept apologizing for doing so. I reassured her that I enjoyed listening, and for most of the afternoon it was a conversation.

In some ways the visit disturbed me. Walking into their living room gave me flashbacks to more than 20 years ago. At that time I did some part-time work for a friend who was a court-appointed conservator for elderly people with no relatives in the area (or at all). After a death, I would go into the house to sort through belongings, clean the house, supervise the removal of furniture, and send specified "effects" to heirs. The living room I walked into this afternoon reminded me of many of those homes--stacks of papers, magazines, and newspapers; dirty carpets and dusty furniture; and a musty smell. And this couple is still able to do most things for themselves.

I know she will tell me not to, but I worry about Mom. Especially after visits like this afternoon's. I don't want to be one of those children who doesn't have time to regularly visit their parents. I don't want to arrive at her home one day and see piles of stuff gathering dust on unvacumed floors. I know that as the older son, I will probably end up as the primary caretaker. And you know what, that's okay. I want Mom to be as independent as possible for as long as possible, even if that means I have to figure out how to find a place big enough for her, my stepfather (he might as well be...), and me.

I also worry about me. When I got home this evening, I immediately cleaned up the couple of stacks of things around my apartment. The only stack left is the "working pile" on my desk, which I go through about once a month to clear out anything that needs to be filed, tossed, or dealt with. I don't want to be one of those people living surrounded by piles of stuff. It scares me a little to think that I could easily become one. I wonder, as a single person with no children, who will take care of me when I get to that stage of life?

All of which leads me to wonder, where is the church in all of this? Isn't this one of the things we should be doing, caring for our elders, our wise ones, those who have cared for us over the years?

Peace,
Jeff

Of Being Single

I take my victories where I can find them. At this morning's writing workshop I ate none of the donuts provided for breakfast. I didn't expect transitioning back to the Eat Right 4 Your Type program to be so difficult. On the other hand, the last time I started the program I was living with someone else who was also starting it. It is much easier to do it with someone than to do it alone.

There are a lot of things that are more difficult as a single person, especially if you live in a suburban or rural area. Taking the car in for service. Arranging for service and repair people to be at your home. Getting around when you are temporarily not able to drive. Navigating through the health care maze when you are hospitalized. I don't even want to think about--though I must--being a single elder in our "western" culture, even in an urban environment.

Supervisors assume that you are always available come in early, work late, and travel more often because you have no family obligations. Church committees make the same assumption. Not to mention that church activities for singles, when a congregation does provide any, often focus on pairing us up than on our lives as single people.

As a single person, I spend a larger percentage of my income on housing and utilities. I have fewer tax exemptions. It takes as much time and energy--both labor and natural resources--to cook for one as it does to cook for two, three, or four. And where do single people turn when they lose their jobs?

Don't get me wrong, there are many things I appreciate about being single. You can handle most of the things above with a little creative planning. Most, but not all.

When people mourn the loss of the family and "family values," they most often mean the nuclear family that became the norm after World War II. Frankly, that model of family has done as much to change our society as any other social movement in the last 60 years. It dismantled the extended family that provided shelter and care for many people, and it helped erode the larger community in this country. I don't necessarily want to turn the clock back. I'm not even sure a return to the old model of the extended family would work.

Maybe it is time to look at new models of family.

Peace,
Jeff

Where Am I?

After a week of waiting, having had a hint but not wanting to say anything until I received official word, my discernment committee let me know that they were recommending me for postulancy. The committee filled out the required form, which I had to read and sign the statement at the end:

I have read and understood the response. If the Nominee wishes to respond to this statement please attach a separate sheet.

Well, I did read it. And I did understand it. I'm just not sure it ought to go forward in its present form with my application to the Diocese. Mom's initial reaction was, "Where's Jeffri in this?" My concern is that they seem to say that I should be admitted to postulancy because I've persevered through a rather tortuous process--some 16 years of it. Maybe the long process has colored how I see their responses. They still concern me.

I approached this discernment committee differently than the previous two. I went in assuming it would be a safe place. I went in prepared to speak what I felt without censoring or editing my thoughts before they left my mouth. I went in knowing that I had to be totally open with these five people. Yet I have to wonder if they listened and heard all that I shared with them. Where is the sense of my ministry among them? In the congregation? In the community?

Some of this I can respond to by attaching the "get thee to a nunnery" letter from Bishop Coleridge and outlining my conversations with Bishop Smith. Some will be expanded upon in the spiritual autobiography I must write to go with the application. And some of it I can respond to directly, as outlined in the statement I signed. It may be that someone (Me? Lois?) needs to request that they provide more in-depth responses. And prayer will be involved.

In the meantime, I have financial information to document, transcripts to request, a spiritual autobiography to write, and some theoretical projections to make. Not to mention coming up with $600 as my third of the application fee.

Prayer will be involved.

Peace,
Jeff
(14)

Of Parents and Children

Over the past few months there has been a lot of buzz on some of my email lists about Tim Schenck's What Size are God's Shoes: Kids, Chaos, and the Spiritual Life. So when a copy arrived at the office in a "preview" box from Church Publishing, I figured I should probably read it. For the most part, I read it on the train going to and from the City. Often, I put it aside to read something else. This evening I finally finished it.

It is not a book I would join a study group to discuss. It is not a book I would read again. As I contemplated why a book that generated so much interest in my colleagues across the church didn't speak to me at all, I realized it was, for the most part, because it focused on his kids. That was a little bit of a shock. The Associate Program Officer for Children's Formation in the denominational headquarters of the Episcopal Church had trouble with a book because it was about kids? What does that say about my ministry there? Have I allowed myself to be placed into the wrong job? (And believe me, lately it has been a job more than a ministry, but that's for another time.)

After further reflection I figured out that it wasn't the fact that the book focused on his kids, it was that Schenck wrote about his kids and his relationship with them as a parent. I also realized that I'd found his segues from the parent/child relationship to God's relationship with us to be annoying, if not cloying at times. And while I've been a child, I have never been a parent.

That's not new, and I've read other books written by parents about their relationships with their children and about parenting. I've liked many of them, and disliked others, but I don't remember any being so annoying. Perhaps it is because at 11 months shy of 50, there is a finality about the fact that I never will be a parent. It is one of the the few things I regret about my life. Brian and I had a chance to adopt a baby. We spent long hours discussing the possibility. It was a revelation to me that Brian, who never wanted children, considered it at all, much less as seriously as we did. In the end, we decided that it was not fair to bring a child into the family and place her in daycare. We both felt one of us should be home full-time, at least until she started school, and at that stage of our lives, we couldn't afford for one of us to stop working.

Never say never. I know that. However...

I know a couple who adopted an infant when they were 50, but I just can't imagine teaching a teenager to drive when I'm eligible to collect Social Security. I know someone else who fathered a child at 60, and my first thought was, "He may not live to see his child graduate from college." Even now, spending time with my brother's 10-year-old can wear me out!

At the same time, I do not have to be a parent to work with and for children. I do enjoy being around children, and children seem to enjoy being around me. I can advocate for them, teach them, learn from them, minister to them, and be ministered to by them.

And I don't have to like every book about parent/child relationships.

Peace,
Jeff

Asking for Prayers

Tomorrow morning five people I have come to know and care for deeply will meet together to make a decision that affects the direction of my life from this point forward. We have spent many hours together answering questions together and sharing our stories. Their job tomorrow is to sift through what they have heard from and learned about me and decide whether or not they believe I am called to ordained ministry. Whatever their decision, I know that these five people will continue to support me as I take the first steps into a new life.

It has been a long journey reaching this point. I cannot say that I won't be disappointed--and very likely upset--if their decision is "no." However, I do know that the journey does not end with a "no" answer. It just means attempting to discern where my gifts can best be used in the church. It will also mean some serious reflection on my current job at the Episcopal Church Center and whether or not I can, or wish to, remain employed there. If, on the other hand, the answer is "yes," I will once again raise my eyes and shout out to God, "What are you thinking??!!!??"

Pray for Leona, George, Kim, Ryan, and Diane as they gather.

Peace,
Jeff
(13)

Musings At The Beginning Of The Week

Yesterday this blog turned two years old. For the last six months it has been private--only those invited people may read it, for reasons I've written about before. After I took it private, I posted to it much less frequently, but for the past five weeks or so, I've been writing fairly regularly. Last Thursday I wrote my 400th post. It becomes a discipline, writing regularly, that is. It forces me to organize thoughts and write clearly (I hope) to communicate what I've been thinking about.

Last week was the beginning of my attempt to return to Eat Right 4 Your Type. A few years ago Mom and I followed the program for a while. I felt pretty good when I followed it, and I'm not sure why I stopped. This time I figured I'd move back to it gradually, starting with wheat and dairy. I did pretty well until Friday. This weekend has been a disaster food-wise. But I did manage four-and-a-half days. Maybe this week I can do five, or even six. It's a start.

The other thing that FINALLY sank in this week is that I have to exercise in the evening. I keep telling myself I'm going to get up in the morning early enough to do it before leaving for work. What part of I'm not a morning person don't I understand? (A friend of mine gave me a button that reads "Not a morning person... Doesn't even begin to cover it!") To make a schedule that includes exercise in the morning just sets me up for failure. A half hour exercising most evenings isn't going to kill me. In fact, it's going to do just the opposite.

Late this afternoon I went to the Barnes & Noble in Westport. I browsed, did some research on a project I'm working on, and then spent the evening in the Cafe reading Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game, which a friend recommended I read. I've never been fond of Card's writing. I started two or three of his novels and put them down after a chapter or two. For some reason Ender's Game gripped me. There were so many things that I wanted to note that I ended up buying a copy along with one of those little Hold That Thought! packets of sticky notes. Sermon and blog fodder perhaps...

This morning my Discernment Committee met for the last time with me. They will meet next week to decide whether they feel I have a call to ordained ministry. I have been truly blessed by this group, and I asked, if their decision is that I am not so called, that they consider continuing to meet with me to determine what it is I am being called into. I was deeply touched when they said that they would continue to support me with group meetings no matter what the outcome of their deliberations was. More than that, we discussed meeting as an ongoing group simply because we have all learned much about each other and ourselves during our conversations, becoming a community of faith ("emergent church" anyone?). We also discovered a common interest in genealogy and are seriously considering starting a group that might meet at Grace Church.

Tomorrow those of us employed at the Episcopal Church Center will hopefully get some kind of indication of the direction the 2010-2012 Triennial budget is taking. By the time we get through General Convention, we will have been involved in the budgeting process for about a year. There has to be an easier way to do this, but then I'm not in charge, and it's hard to change an institution!

Peace,
Jeff
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Blame It On Elizabeth

Kaeton, that is. I was perusing blogs in the wee hours (not a "sleepless night," just up late because I had a nap from 6:00 - 9:00 p.m.) and found this post on her Telling Secrets. So I decided to go take the quiz myself. And the results (I knew I liked Elizabeth for a reason!):

You are Origen!
You do nothing by half-measures. If you’re going to read the Bible, you want to read it in the original languages. If you’re going to teach, you’re going to reach as many souls as possible, through a proliferation of lectures and books. If you’re a guy and you’re going to fight for purity … well, you’d better hide the kitchen shears.

So I went looking for a couple of others.

Here's the Are You A Heretic? quiz, which I think I've posted about before. In any case, the results don't surprise me:

You Scored as Pelagianism

You are a Pelagian. You reject ideas about man's fallen human nature and believe that as a result we are able to fully obey God. You are the first Briton to contribute significantly to Christian thought, but you're still excommunicated in 417.

Pelagianism 58%
Modalism 50%
Socinianism 42%
Chalcedon compliant 42%
Monophysitism 33%
Monarchianism 33%
Nestorianism 25%
Adoptionist 25%
Apollanarian 17%
Arianism 8%
Gnosticism 8%
Donatism 0%
Albigensianism 0%
Docetism 0%

Next up is Beliefnet's Belief-O-Matic. I know I've taken this before with different resuts (I think I came out Liberal Quaker the last time), but here are this morning's:

Your Results

The top score on the list below represents the faith that Belief-O-Matic, in its less than infinite wisdom, thinks most closely matches your beliefs. However, even a score of 100% does not mean that your views are all shared by this faith, or vice versa. Belief-O-Matic then lists another 26 faiths in order of how much they have in common with your professed beliefs. The higher a faith appears on this list, the more closely it aligns with your thinking.

1. Neo-Pagan (100%)
2. Mahayana Buddhism (80%)
3. Hinduism (78%)
4. Liberal Quakers (76%)
5. Unitarian Universalism (75%)
6. New Age (75%)
7. Jainism (74%)
8. Sikhism (72%)
9. Reform Judaism (71%)
10. Theravada Buddhism (65%)
11. Baha'i Faith (61%)
12. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (61%)
13. Orthodox Judaism (53%)
14. New Thought (52%)
15. Orthodox Quaker (52%)
16. Taoism (51%)
17. Secular Humanism (49%)
18. Scientology (42%)
19. Islam (37%)
20. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (36%)
21. Seventh Day Adventist (33%)
22. Eastern Orthodox (30%)
23. Roman Catholic (30%)
24. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (29%)
25. Nontheist (26%)
26. Jehovah's Witness (26%)
27. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (26%)

Beliefnet has a bunch of quizzes, but I only took two more.

Which Archangel are you? Okay, this one surprised me:

You scored 46, on a scale of 0 to 100. Here's how to interpret your score:

26 - 50 You are Michael, Archangel of the South. You are the only angel identified as an archangel in the New Testament Bible, the strong and brave leader of all other archangels. In the Christian faith, you are best known for wielding a sword and conquering the serpent during the battle in Heaven (Revelation 12:7-12); in the Jewish faith, you are best known as the patron of Israel. Courageous, authoritative, and fearless, you are passionate about protecting others and helping them overcome temptation. Those who seek constant vigilance and encouragement to follow laws look to you as their patron. You share an archangel feast day with Gabriel and Raphael on September 29.

How hip is your church?, which in my opinion needs to be reworked... Here's how I saw Grace Episcopal Church:

You scored 20, on a scale of 0 to 35. Here's how to interpret your score:

14 - 23 On the edge. You prefer the middle ground of a traditional church setting with some Gen X additions.

Peace,
Jeff

Catechism

cat*e*chism (kat' ǐ-kǐz' əm) n. 1. A book giving a brief summary of the basic principles of Christianity in question-and-answer form. 2. A manual giving basic instruction in a subject. 3. A body of fundamental principles or beliefs, esp. when accepted uncritically. 4. A close questioning or examination, as of a political figure.
--The American Heritage College Dictionary, 4th ed., 2002.

Who knew?

We do have one in the Episcopal Church. Honestly. It's on page 843 of our Book of Common Prayer. Although it's titled "An Outline of the Faith, commonly called the Catechism." Most of the church doesn't seem to pay much attention to it except in relation to Confirmation. Occasionally it will get pulled out when teaching new folks about our church. We used it in my confirmation class as a beginning place for discussion. I was 29 at the time, and if I found it boring, I can only imagine what teenagers think of it.

From time to time I refer to it in the course of my work as the Children's Formation Officer for the Episcopal Church. And sometimes I bring it up in conversations, especially when I get on my "the Episcopal Church doesn't believe its own Prayer Book" soap box.

If we're going to teach about Christianity and the Episcopal Church, then we need to think outside the book. The book is a great starting place, but let's face it, not everyone learns by reading, and even those of us that do are not held by the rote repetition of the Catechism. So what do I mean by outside the book? If you're not already familiar with Father Matthew Presents, I suggest you go to YouTube and check him out. We ought to be including his videos in Confirmation classes, newcomer classes, and quite frankly, many of our Christian Education/Formation programs.

Here is just one example of his work, and while it's not typical of it, it is a powerful piece.



Peace,
Jeff
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Now We Are Nine and Forty

If you don't get the reference, go back and take a look at last year's birthday post.

Yesterday after church, Mom and I went to a nearby Mexican restaurant for lunch. It was nice to have time for just the two of us. The small box wrapped in blue paper she gave me turned out to be an add-on for Carcassonne that I've had on my Amazon.com wish list for a while: The Princess and the Dragon (I love the BoardGameGeek site, even if I'm not quite one). Sometime soon we'll have to break it open and play!

This morning I arrived at work to find a LARGE balloon taped to my computer monitor. The attached note said it was from the folks of the Evangelism & Congregational Site Center. If you hit it, it sings "Happy Birthday" twice through. People kept stopping by my cubicle and hitting the balloon to the great amusement of my coworkers. I think Suzanne got the biggest kick out of it. I told Angie she is in big trouble when her birthday rolls around! By the end of the day my response someone hitting the balloon was to hit my Staples Easy Button, so "Happy Birthday" was followed by "That was easy!"

My colleague Ruth-Ann, who has been on a campaign for me to expressing my creative side, gave me a suede case with a drawing pad and 12 pastels. Last year it was a similar case with colored pencils. I haven't worked with pastels since junior high school art class! Mom is often on a similar campaign. One of these days I need to bring these two women together--although I'm not sure about the results of a combined campaign...!!!

My brother called this evening to wish me a happy birthday, and we chatted for about 15 minutes or so.

One of the things I used to do every year was clip the "If today is your birthday" piece from the Horoscope column in the local paper and tape it into my journal. This evening I went looking to see what was online and found:
Cafe Astrology
The New York Post: "You need to be a bit more forceful this year. You need to let others know that if they want a peaceful life they had better give you whatever it is you desire. You don't have to raise your voice. They'll get the message from the look in your eye. "
Georgia Nicols: "Founder of Amazon.com Jeff Bezos (1964) shares your birthday today. You're inspired by high ideals and you're extremely committed to your goals. In fact, you will make sacrifices for what you truly want. You're interesting, talkative and full of stories. You're drawn to unusual occupations and hobbies. You know how to sell an idea if it's important. Your year ahead will be wonderfully social, pleasure-loving and perhaps focused on romance."
This should be an interesting post to look back on in a year.

And just for fun, here's the Wikipedia entry for January 12.

Peace,
Jeff
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Vacation Ends

Lunch and breakfast await in their brown paper bag in the fridge. The knapsack sits by the door. The alarm clock stands ready to ring at 6:00 a.m. After two weeks the routine begins again. Or perhaps I should say anew. I added a couple of things back into my daily routine, and I hope they become habit. I started last month, well before New Year's Eve, because making resolutions always seems a set up for failure. Lifestyle changes, not resolutions, are what I hope I'm making.

This afternoon I actually worked on one of the audition pieces for the YouTube symphony--the Bach. If I had two months, I might pull it off. Right now, after weeks and weeks of not playing regularly, I just don't have the stamina to get through the rehearsal time needed in the next 24 days. If I can't make a reasonably good audition, then I don't want to put a video (or two) out there to sit on the Internet for heaven knows how many years into the future. However, I can set the goal of learning the pieces. Who knows, there's always an off chance... And playing music relaxes me. Maybe it's time to contemplate taking lessons again.

So tomorrow it's back to work. Prayers are always appreciated.

Peace,
Jeff
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