A Soccer-Mom in Vestments

Advent Thoughts -Wednesday

2011-11-29T18:29:00.001-05:00

Holtz today writes about Christmas wreaths. He mentions that they are for him a reminder of ancient Greek athletes who won laurel wreath crowns. He is also reminded that St. Paul tells us in 2 Timothy 4:7-8 " I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 8 Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." A crown waits for each of us and Hotlz urges us to see Christmas wreaths as a reminder of that crown. I am pretty sure I have never made the connection between the Christmas wreath and the crown of glory. I do however remember my mother making pine cone wreaths for the church Christmas fair. She carefully selected large pine cones and then wove florist wire through them to attach to a form. Interspersed with fake shiny red apples, yellow pears and other fruits, they were a work of art and very popular at the fair. As an adult, I have tried to make wreaths, note the emphasis on tried. I lack the skill and patience required to sit patiently and carefully blend pine cones, fake flowers,fruits. I fail miserably at even the bow making part. I have taken to purchasing my wreaths which makes the front door look nice, but isn't the same as Mom's homemade ones. Patience; that is really what I lack when working the craft and art arena. I find too that lack of patience sometimes gets worse as the Christmas rush begins. So for me, when I look at a Christmas wreath, I won't necessarily associate it with Holtz's crown of glory. Instead it will remind me of my Mom's patience and that Advent is about being patient; something I need to practice.

Advent Thoughts: Tuesday

2011-11-28T16:05:00.001-05:00

Tuesday's Chapter in Week One of Holtz's book is entitled "Salvation Army". He notices several people adding to the Salvation Army pot on a street corner and comments that so typical in the holiday season, people give more, help others more. He also notes that our faith is not based on feeling compassionate, but rather we are to act in compassionate ways. I struggle this time of year when the spirit of the season means that folks are more generous to food pantries and the like. I struggle with the fact that as soon as January 1 comes and the ornaments are packed away and the tree put out for the birds and the Ipod Christmas music folders have taken a back seat to the newest favorites that people lose the giving spirit which should be as natural for us as breathing. How can I encourage a compassionate faith that is not simply feeling bad for folks who are sick or lonely or hungry or lost, but a faith which encourages people to act on their compassion and participate in God's kingdom now and here in our own corner of the world? Perhaps I need to put a calendar reminder for myself each month,each week or each day simply asking me "How have you acted out of compassion this day?" What about you? Do you live an active faith that participates in the building of the Kingdom of God? Reflect for a moment what that means for you.

Advent Thoughts 2011

2011-11-27T20:16:00.001-05:00

I am reading a book called From Holidays to Holy Days;A Benedictine Walk Through Advent by Albert Holtz,O.S.B.It is a series of daily meditations and by reading it daily I hope to get more centered in God in this typically whirlwind season. These short blogs will be based on my thoughts of what Albert writes.Monday Week 1 - Today's meditation is Holiday Music. Quick! Think of your favorite Christmas song.What is the first thing that pops into your head? I just asked Big Pappi(aka Dave) the question. You know you've been married a long time when you start to come up with his answer before he says anything. "White Christmas"is his reply as I am thinking the same song. Was your answer like ours a non- religious song or something like Silent Night or Joy to the World, maybe Santa Claus is Coming to Town? Holtz's first reflection is one that notes many of our favorite non-religious Christmas songs may actually "start to resonate somehow with the sacred songs and begin to echo the deep religious themes of Advent and Christmas...Silver Bells begins to blend with the message of heartfelt peace and gladness of Joy to the World." I had never considered this before. It gives me pause as to all the songs I love of this time of year and even though many are non-religious, what sacred images do they invoke for me? Take a favorite Christmas or Advent song and meditate on it. What makes it sacred for you?

Big Pappi and the Honeymoon

2010-06-18T10:27:00.003-04:00

Nearly 26 years ago the Big Pappi and I were exchanging vows in a rose garden in Sudbury. Surrounded by immediate family this small gathering was simple and quaint. We
( I ) had spent months planning the honeymoon trip. After all with a wedding of 12 people there is simply not much to plan; dinner and ceremony- no seating charts, save the date cards, wedding attire, drama. Instead my energy went to planning the details of our 2 week bed and breakfast hop through Ireland and England. Itineraries,plane tickets, boat crossings, car rentals, places to stay, sights to see, tons and tons of details. I spent hours and hours researching- no Internet then so it was the old fashioned way, travel agents and books and library time.

Yup I was ready, no detail left out. We headed to Ireland and spent a glorious week staying the first night at a local stud farm ( yes we did get the chuckle and wink from the owner when we told them we were on our honeymoon!) Lot's of driving on the opposite side of the very narrow streets, going at crazy speeds; Big Pappi should have been a race car driver! Our last day in Ireland landed us in Dublin where we spent our last night before we boarded a boat to England. The day began easily enough with a "let's drive north!" sense of adventure. After all the boat was not leaving until 8 or 9 at night so we had plenty of time. We headed north enjoying the countryside until....

Until we came upon a group of British soldiers lining the road, dressed in fatigues, camouflage and sporting the latest in rifles. Along each side of the road men were in the grass rifles pointing at the street. Nowhere to turn around no sign saying we had landed in Northern Ireland! Yup British troops looking for gun runners for the IRA.
The lieutenant approached and with a thick Liverpool accent told us to open the boot and the bonnet. Big Pappi looked at him and then at me, then back at him. HUH? A little louder- OPEN THE BOOT AND THE BONNET!!! Sorry don't understand what you are referring to?Where are you from? Big Pappi says Boston. Where upon we become surrounded by troops. How were we supposed to know that they were looking for someone from Boston and that Big pappi is part Irish and frankly at the time looked very Irish with his red afro and dark glasses. Get outta the car1 Yup we did this pretty quickly, they opened the boot and the bonnet (Trunk and hood) and inspected every inch. Then as they spoke with us they realized we were a couple of honeymooners and not terrorists. The lieutenant told us some good spots to eat in Liverpool and we did a U-turn and headed back to Dublin.

After some final touring Big Pappi decided he needed some Chinese food before we hit the boat so we parked the car near the boat dock,left everything in the car and hopped a bust to the center of Dublin where we had some really amazing Chinese food if I do say so. Back to the car and a big OH NO! Car had been vandalized and everything, EVERYTHING we owned had been ripped off, stolen, gonzo. Seriously? Was it not enough we tangled with British troops? We drove the couple of blocks to the dock area and called the police; very nice Irish fellows arrived quickly who dropped more "f" bombs than even I had heard or used. They were extremely apologetic between the mother f's etc. but in the end said we would not get back anything most likely. It did not help that we were leaving for England in about an hour so no way we could stay and try to find out what might have happened.

All the souvenirs, all the clothing gone- we had my purse with camera, passports, tickets and money. So we boarded the boat exhausted, run through the ringer, bummed out but with no other thing to do but press on. The it happened a knock on the cabin door, could we see you tickets please. I think you are in the wrong stateroom. HUH? It says right here the number. Yes it does says the steward, unfortunately it also says tomorrow's date! What? Yes I am afraid you are on the boat a day early ( The boat has left the dock - there is no turning around) I melted right there, crumpled down bawling my eyes out as I yelled, "I have been stopped and questioned by British troops with big ass guns pointing at me, robbed blind by some Irish thugs and I am NOT repeat NOT leaving this damn stateroom." We got the stateroom, arrived a day early into Liverpool; no car waiting because we were, after all, a day early. Shops closed for 2 days for holiday and so no way to buy toothpaste, soap etc. Yup all that planning and I still messed it up. And that was how the Big Pappi and I began some 26 years ago. Next week it's off to Turkey and Greece can't wait for the adventure to begin. Lesson learned as long as you have passport tickets and money everything will be fine!!!

Just can't help myself!

2010-06-01T16:56:00.003-04:00

Truly I can not help myself. It is just part of who I am in the world. In fact, if I don't do it I somehow do not feel like myself. I get antsy, jittery even and then I can't sleep and then, well then I get overwhelmed and finally I get paralyzed until I can do nothing!( When it gets THAT bad, you know it is really bad) To look at my office you would not know that I am this way. It ( the office) seems so very ordinary; even a tad messy and yet I can not stop.....ADMINISTRATING AND PLANNING! There I said it! I know you were hoping for something more mysterious, glamorous, or addictive like being addicted to Mafia Wars on Facebook ( I am NOT!) nothing glamorous, really even boring. Yet here I sit, June 1 end of year still to plan for the parish ( really it's been planned for quite a while but you knew that anyway didn't you) and I am planning for next year; not September honey that's already underway, just about wrapped up. No I am planning for late June 2011. Mission on the Bay trip to continue work on the mess left by Katrina which hit 5 years ago this August by the way. Could I not even wait until this program year was over to give myself time to take a breath or two and then dig into the planning? Obviously not! AND to confess I actually started ruminating on this exact idea back at the end of April.
So now you know truly I can not help myself from the planning! The mere thought of not starting now,it makes me dizzy to even think about THAT! And so I must plan, it is as much who I am as being a priest,well actually I have always been a planner, even before the priest. But sometimes the planning goes awry.
Case in point, spent six months planning the honeymoon with the Big Pappi. We went to England and Ireland. Details of that adventure to follow. Let's just say that I find it hard to believe that I spent all that time planning all the details and we ended up on a boat a day early and did not discover it until said boat had pulled away from the dock. How does something like that happen? I have no idea I could have sworn every last detail had been planned out, but happen it did; changed the entire course of the honeymoon but not the marriage thank goodness.

It is quiet, I mean really quiet!

2010-05-25T14:07:00.004-04:00

Mama Beth went to AMA Beth as priest and has added Gramma Beth over the last couple of months. Grandbaby Sophia lives with AMA Beth along with son and soon to be daughter in law and of course there's the Big Papi as well as dogs and cats added to this motley mix. It is NOT a quiet household. Someone or thing(read animal) is always making noise; crying, laughing, burping, barking,yowling, yelling, slamming, screaming and any other noise we can think of. It is generally not quiet; how could it be with 4 semi adults, 1 baby and 4 assorted animals. It it any wonder that I work in a church? The serenity of the sanctuary, so quiet and prayerful!Maybe in the wee hours of the morning or at midnight, but this place is hopping; preschool, meetings. ( Very excellent use of space!)

This week it is different though, baby and her entourage have gone to Florida on vacation. Moms and Dads know this scene- baby stuff galore and oops did we remember to pack the favorite binky, blanky etc.So the coop is just Big Papi and I and the dogs and cats of course. It is quiet, really quiet and clean too. So this is what is meant by empty nest huh? Wow, I can leave the house in the morning and return home and guess what it looks EXACTLY the way I left it. Now not that that means it is clean only the way that I left it; Upside; if it's clean when I leave, I get clean when I get home. Downside; any of those dirty dishes I just didn't feel like loading into the dishwasher- yeah they are right there waiting, glaring with their stuck on pasta, cheese sauce triumphantly too I might add as if to say go ahead "Make my day! Just try and get me off this plate I dare you!"
Big Papi and I can eat dinner in or dine out. We can finish a conversation, that is if we start one and my personal favorite we can sleep with the door to our room OPEN!!!. OK so this whole empty nest is only 24 hours old and I am relishing a bit of freedom so to speak. I will probably be bored by next week we they are due home and will welcome them and all the noise and mess that goes along with have a baby in the house. On the other hand.....

it's Pentecost

2010-05-20T13:08:00.000-04:00

St Andrew's Kid's choir sings Rocka My Soul

2010-05-19T15:58:00.000-04:00

Sunday's Coming Trailer

2010-05-13T13:53:00.000-04:00

2010-05-13T12:44:00.001-04:00

is trying to figure out the ins and outs of using ping.fm

Carrie Bradshaw is my hero!

2010-05-11T11:20:00.004-04:00

Ok I admit it, I watch Sex in the City; I didn't until my daughters turned me on to the series. Mind you the version I watch is the original series; none of this tamed down for TBS or whatever station the re-runs are on. No, my girls had me watching the original in all it's nudity and naughtiness glory! Cheeks have blushed, "oh my's" have come forth from my mouth and a lot of laughter too. I saw the first movie a couple of times and yes it was on my Christmas list. ( got it too!) I am not sure how I feel about the second movie though. Of course I will go see it, but just kinda wondering where the story line goes from here; after all it was nicely wrapped up in the last movie.

I have often wondered what exactly has me hooked into this quirky group of women who are so different and yet have a special connection. Is it the fashion? The fact that they are all living in New York; a secret desire of mine? Perhaps it is that they make time for one another and are in a real sense their own family; full of different personalities, viewpoints, but willing to hang in there for each other through a multitude of life experiences and relationships.

My favorite part is the opening of each show, Carrie is usually struggling with her column, to find a topic folks would be interested in reading and to come up with one of those philosophical questions. She ponders, she writes, she queries. She is interested in people and life and relationships. Of course the fact that she has the best shoes doesn't hurt either. I realize that I am a Carrie Bradshaw wannabe. Although living in the city would be very exciting for a time and I do love to shop for cute shoes, the real reason I am drawn to her character is that she is constantly seeking, questioning. She is quirky and curious about life.

I've been Charlotte, the goody two shoes growing up all prim and proper and have experiences as Miranda; the career woman who is excellent in her job, but a tough nut to crack in a relationship. Then there is Samantha; not even going to go there 'cept to say that she is a woman who gets what she wants, but I find her very lonely. Now that I am post-kid raising, second career, I am in my soul a Carrie. So, if you watch the show which character are you and why?

Taking on the virtual world

2010-05-05T11:56:00.004-04:00

It has been a really I mean really long time since I posted on the blog. Why? I don't know other than the fact that I am not a natural writer; it is challenging and daunting to write when I don't think I have anything to say. Ok stop the laughing I know I ALWAYS have something to say about everything. But life these last few months has made me go from soccer MOM to GrandMOM twice over so it's been busy.

This last week, I joined a couple of hundred of my fellow priests at clergy conference where we learned about social media and the ministry. WOW, so now do I not only feel like a "fake" priest; see previous posting about the new reality show "Real" Priests of Ma. I'm also feeling my age. Between my personal facebook page, my tweets, the church Facebook page, the website, recording sermons, video of cool church events, blogging, I'm feeling I don't know what world I just entered? How many of these things would Jesus have? What kind of blogger would Jesus have been? Here are some suggestions for his blog name: Walkin'on water the JC way. Sheeps, goats and the eye of the needle, Getting into the Kingdom of God 3 easy steps, From Carpenter to Christ? So many possibilities and you all could probably come up with more creative ideas than I've just listed. What really strikes me though is that Jesus was all about personal relationships, encountering folks face to face, clean and unclean, blind and seeing. So how in this new virtual world would he function? When would he know to get off the keyboard and virtual highway and head to the streets for some one on one?
That is my struggle. It's pretty easy to plunk myself down in front of the laptop, or to power up the smart phone to add posts, but when does it begin to take over my life so that I have forgotten that I need to get into the streets to visit the sick, feed the hungry (the ones with stomachs growling) and seek to see the face of Christ in all whom I meet?

No doubt about it my children connect via the Internet it is part of how they function in the world. Can I keep up? Not sure, but I'll give it a shot- Now I really need to get off this viral world and into reality!

Easter Vigil Youtube

2010-03-23T08:54:00.000-04:00

Confirmation Class -- Easter Vigil Youtube readings

"Real" Priests

2009-11-11T07:47:00.000-05:00

A few years ago the t.v. show Desperate Housewives premiered. A combo drama/dark comedy/satire of suburban women's lives, DH as it is fondly called, became a new version of nighttime soap opera a la Dallas of the 80's. A couple of years later Bravo premiered "Real Housewives of Orange County." These women were the reality to the DH fictional characters. Yeah right! The "real" housewives of the reality show live in mansions, are perfectly coiffed, have fabulous wardrobes and spend their time "doing lunch," days at the spa, shopping for new glam outfits to show off their perfectly sculpted bodies, or planning and hosting dinners, soirees etc. Yup, that's what my life looks like (NOT). The show has been so popular that there are now series in Atalanta, NY, and NJ and mostly recently DC (do ya think Michelle Obama will be cast?) oh wait most likely not, as in reality she probably does tend to her kid's homework and works in the White House vegetable garden and at least attempts to live as normal life as is possible in an unrealistic situation.

So if these women are the "real" housewives, what does that make the rest of us; fake? Yeah that baby puke that I've cleaned up for the 15th time, that's fake and the melted crayon down the heating vent that is making a disgusting smell, guess that is fake too, and figuring out how am I gonna take care of the sick child and does this mean that the healthy one can't go to dance class now? Well, that must be some kind of dream state I am living in or a nightmare before reality hits! Dreamland all right where there is always juggling the bills, balancing the homework with getting supper on the table, playing chauffeur for various activities,being the cheerleader at sports events or the psychologist for the "Everybody hates me syndrome" and the endless amounts of laundry- Bet those "housewives" in Orange County don't have washers and driers, yeah they probably just buy new clothes every time the others get dirty!

All of this has gotten me to think about offering a new reality show called " Real Priests of Massachusetts" These priests rise early and spend 2 hours in quiet solitude, praying and communing with God. They then spend 2 hours a day pouring over the Scriptures for the week researching the texts for their sermon which will be given on Sunday. They read the text first in English then go straight to Greek or Hebrew. Then it is 2 more hours of praying and meditation followed by a healthy lunch of organically grown veggies, homemade bread and soup which of course they have made all the while praying. Then it is off to do visitations at the hospital even if none of their parishioners are there. They will pray perfectly for each individual. and so on....You get the idea.

Yup it's only the fake priests who rise after only a few hours of sleep to return the e-mails from the previous night wondering about setting up times to meet to discuss a new outreach project or if there are funds in the budget for the youth to take on special project or when the articles for the next newsletter might be ready. This is before they run off to a quick meeting with other clergy to hopefully share insights about the texts for the sermon. Arrival at the office is at 9:15 only to find that there is no heat, to receive a phone call from an angry towns person who really does not like the fact that the signs for the Xmas fair read Xmas instead of Christmas and does not really care to hear that the X means Christ and was used in the early church, followed by the fire alarm going off for no apparent reason which leads to the discovery that the alarm company has not been contacted. Why? Because when the new phone system was installed the phone company disconnected the fire alarm line ( 2 years ago!) and it's just been by the grace of God that nothing serious has happened. The pre-school is evacuated, along with the folks who are meeting in a support group, the fire department is called, arrives and checks the entire building; false alarm- thank God, but you really need to get the situation resolved. Everyone back into the building to resume supporting and learning which is followed by a meeting to cut the budget because the revenue stream is less than expenses and a call has come in from the local funeral home that Mrs. McGillicuddy has died and can the funeral be in 2 days since that is the only time that the family can be together? Who is Mrs. McGillicuddy? No one seems to remember her or the family and a bride has called and wants to get married her because "it's such a pretty little church" but can we have a punk rock band play the song the brides comes down to and by the way could you take the cross off the altar because after all we really aren't THAT religious and it might offend someone in the family to see it there. Lunch consists of a candy bar and a diet coke while in the car on the way to visit someone who is really ill, praying in the car that the right words will come that will comfort and that one will be able to be fully present- "Help me Lord! to get out of my own way to put aside this morning's business to do your work. Help me Lord to be a vehicle for your grace, to listen to hard words, grief, anguish, to turn it all over to You knowing that I can fix nothing but simply be present and walk with this person. Help me to be calm and not distracted by all the other issues I will face when I leave this visit. Help me Lord, help me."

And so the day for "fake" priests continues, with writing and calls, and meetings and colleagues and some how in the midst of it God shows up, grace happens, blessings abound. Glad I am not a "real" priest!

Greed

2009-11-05T18:42:00.000-05:00

This year we are trying something new for worship. We are offering an alternative service one Saturday a month; Sacred Saturdays we are calling them and they are different experiences that the typical Sunday morning fare. Last month the theme was based on songs from U-2, this month it is gospel type music, like "Down by the Riverside", "Oh Mary don't you mourn," and a couple of modern selections by Sweet Honey and the Rock. As I 've been prepping the music I've tried to select images to use that reflect the theme of the service. One of my favorites is Sweet Honey and the Rock's "Greed"; the song was a perfect choice given that the Gospel reading is from Mark's Gospel chapter 12:
" As he taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

Many a preacher uses this text to talk about generous stewardship, the sacrifice of the widow as an example for others to try to emulate. However, there is another aspect of the story. Imagine that you have lived in a society that has been taught that it is the responsibility of the village to care for the poor and widows, to actually take care of them. Yet the passage teaches that the elite do just the opposite; they take advantage of the widows and do all for showing off of their wealth.

Doesn't sound so different from our own culture does it? Is it so different for us to live in a society where many elderly make choices between food and medicine all the while Wall Street companies and CEO's make exorbitant amounts of money? Sweet Honey and the Rock's song is a mini sermon about greed, the way in which it poisons society, makes otherwise normal people do insane things and that there is not an aspect of the culture where greed is not found; govt. military, even church.

We used to aspire to be a society that welcomed the poor the hungry, the homeless like the statue of liberty's " Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" now it's "yup we've got huddled masses, we don't want them... The more things change the more they stay the same. So Sat. night we're gonna try to find a way to talk about Greed, to be inspired to change rather than to be guilt ridden about our own ways in which we are greedy.

We can be the change we want to see in our world. On the other hand maybe greed is so pervasive that we really don't want to change. HMMM

Goblins, Saints and Souls Oh MY!

2009-10-31T09:30:00.000-04:00

It's October 31 and go into any store you'll see rapidly disappearing Halloween candy and costumes being replaced by UGH- Christmas decorations, cards and gift items. I've always wondered about the whole 3 day celebration of Halloween, All Saints and All Souls. What was once a celebration of Celtic origin to ward of evil spirits followed by religious celebrations to honor the faithful saints in heaven and all the souls of those departed has morphed into yet another way for retailers to bump up profit margins and the bottom retail line. Now, I love Halloween, the idea of making a costume for my kids when they were little and taking them around the neighborhood to trick or treat was fun. We'd plot and plan for weeks trying to figure the best costume to make. We'd have a quick supper, get on the costumes and off we'd go. Pillowcases were our best friends for collecting the candy and upon our arrival home we'd scour the bags, checking the candy (OK I was really picking out my favorites of what I wanted to eat). The kids would make trades for their favorites and after a few pieces off we'd go to bed. Things had changed just a bit from when I was a kid.

When I was a kid there was a party held for all the kids in town by the local bank. We dressed up in our home made costumes and got candy and had relay races, and bobbed for apples and did not have to worry about people putting in bad things to the candy. Ah those were the days when we received regular size bars of chocolate ( which only cost a nickel) or sometimes home made candy popcorn balls or cookies. No adults were needed as we went out as a gang of kids in the 3rd 4th and 5th grades and were gone for a couple of hours. We used make up, old clothes maybe bought a pair of wax lips or wax vampire teeth.

How times have changed even from when my now adult kids were little. Popular costumes when my kids were kids were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, clowns, princesses, fairies, the Smurfs. Big Pappi and I even went one year as Mama and Papa Smurf complete with blue faces. ( Way before Blue man group was on the scene) It was great fun until the rain started and we became a rainy blue mess, but still lots of laughs and fun. Now kids can buy costumes mimicking folks like Amy Weinhouse- now there's a GREAT role model for kids to aspire to, or sexy versions of witches, Lil'red Riding Hood etc. costume shops are now "ho" central especially for girls. What gives with that? Do we really have to sexualize what could be some innocent fun? Begging for candy- doesn't get more American than that does it? The next thing you know the Easter bunny will look more like a playboy bunny than Peter Rabbit!

So tonight we will celebrate what was originally a Celtic celebration. One where family spirits were welcomed and bad spirits were warded off; hence the need for scary masks and costumes. Kids will get their loot and either eat it all at once or spread it out over the next couple of weeks. Hopeful parents will secretly stash away their own candy favorites using the line, " Well this kind of looks like it might have been damaged, need to be safe ya know! so I better hang on to this piece and that one there" and so on and so on. If we are lucky there will be only good natured fun for elementary school aged kids, parents will have chosen the costumes that are big on the cute factor and there will be little vandalism from the teen population.

Happy Halloween!

Weather Wimp

2009-10-28T15:23:00.000-04:00

Let me be clear I hate the rain. I am sick of it. I know there are lots of folks who see a rainy day as an opportunity to sit, read, watch movies, bake, clean, something that is on the line of relaxing.
(OK so the cleaning isn't relaxing) Me I just get blue, and weary. I am weary of all these dismal days that seem to go on forever. They are gray and cold and raw and I just don't like them. Plenty of other people seem to be just fine, energetic, smiling, happy so I figure that I must simply be a weather wimp. You know the kind of person who just can't function without sunshine and warm days, someone whose idea of the perfect day is sand, beach surf with turquoise water, sun and a good book with time to swim, snorkel, walk the beach. Only it is raining, cold wet leaves cover my deck, the only walk that'll happen is a potty run with Daisy the Parkour Dog and Reilley Malone my Irish snuggle Wheaton.

Then I wonder, is this a reflection of how my soul is feeling? Hmm Am I also being a soul wimp along with being a weather wimp? What exactly does a soul wimp look like? Does a soul wimp look the character Gollum in the Lord of the Rings movies. Grey, hunched over, with haunting eyes who chokes and gurgles and is obsessed with possessing the ring? A sorrowful character to be pitied. According to the online dictionary a wimp is a "timid or unadventurous person" so a soul wimp would be a person who at their very core is timid or unadventurous. No I don't think this is me, so while I am be weather wimp and am sick of the unceasing rain I guess this is no reflection of my soul. Thanks be to God.

Imperfect priesting

2009-10-21T07:28:00.001-04:00

There seriously needs to be 48 hours in a single day in order for me to get everything done and my Mommy days are over sort of; well at least they are all grown and the issues are different and I don't have them waking me up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. Now I wake up because they are laughing too loud and this old body needs to get 8 solid hours of sleep.If I wake up, no longer am I able to simply go back to sleep, more often than not I am UP for the duration so I need to be able to get the most consecutive hours I can.

There needs to be 48 hours in a day. I do not know what God was thinking when the day was created with only 24 hours and on the 7th day God rested and we think God was not a guy; yeah right! Do you know any woman who would say " Yup it's all done and I am gonna rest now, seriously? There is always something else to be cleaned, shopped for, cooked, snuggled with, read to, played go fish for the 20th time with etc.. But I am not in Mommy mode and I still want 48 hours in a day.

It's the whole priesting thing. There is simply not enough time in the day to get everything done. I mean it. Just look at my calendar. There are sick people to visit, which is REALLY important. There are sermons to write, really important for folks who take time to come to church on Sunday, they deserve to hear something cohesive and which just might feed them spiritually or challenge them to think differently. There are newsletter articles to write so that folks know what is going on. There are budgets to prepare, after all we need a clue how to pay the bills and focus on ministry. There are meetings with vestry (the lay people board of directors), committees, fundraising, support groups, special liturgies to prepare, calendars to coordinate, classes to prepare, outreach activities to garner support for. The heating system fries, a snow storm means that shoveling needs to be done. A call is received that someone has died. Then there are town-wide clergy groups, deanery ( church speak for the geographical grouping of Episcopal churches) meetings, diocesan ( church speak for the state structure) mandates, meetings, environmental etc. etc. etc. You can see how I really need to have 48 hours in a day. Someone or thing is being left out- oh yeah how about time with God? How did Jesus do it? Day after day crowds pressed in around him, " Heal me! Teach me! Love me! See me! Hear me!Help me! Save me!" on and on it went.

While writing this the fire alarm went off, evacuate the building, call the alarm company who has no clue why the alarm went off as it is not showing on their end and by the way call 911 to have the fire department come and check the building. You see! There are just never enough hours in the day!

To dip or not to dip that is the question!

2009-10-19T10:09:00.001-04:00

This posting is about Communion, Eucharist, Lord's Supper from the perspective of the distributor. My job when it comes to Communion is easy. I just hand out the "bread" which in the case of our church are little wafers, flat, no taste and not so thin as they melt in your mouth, although you can buy them that way. I've always been curious about the wafer bit. Jesus after all did not have wafers, he did use unleavened bread that he was able to break and share with his closest friends. His friends/followers, inner crowd were men ( at least in the Bible stories) but we know that women were among his followers (also in the Bible) so in all likelihood there were women present at the "Last Supper." After sharing bread, a common food, he shared the wine with the group. This is how the Gospel writer Luke describes it.

"Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said, "Take this and divide among yourselves; for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." The he took a loaf of bread and when he had broken it and gave it to them saying, "This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me. And he did the same with the cup after supper saying, " This cup that is poured out for you in the new covenant in my blood."
(Luke 22: 17-20)

I imagine that the bread was broken and passed around and then the cup was passed and each disciple drank from it. A sacred moment among Jesus and his friends, the last time they will be together before he is arrested and killed. Somehow I don't imagine Peter saying, "No thanks, no sipping for me, after all there are germs, Andrew you don't even wash your hands and uh when was the last time you brushed your teeth. Nope I think I'll just dip my bread in, safer that way you know. " "Well if Peter isn't going to drink from the cup then neither am I." James shouts out and pretty soon you have everyone arguing over whether it's OK to drink from the cup or they need to dip in the cup. Jesus probably would just shake his head and mutter something about, "They still don't get it." Kind of sad.

Fast forward to the 21st century and different communities celebrate the Lord's Supper in a variety of ways. As I said, I have the easy job. I simply hand out the bread. The LEM's, church talk for Lay Eucharistic Ministers, which refers to the people who distribute the wine follow behind me. They have the really tough job. After all they have to figure out if someone is going to sip from the cup or dip the wafer in the cup. It is at best a guessing game and juggling act. Each person differs in his or her approach. You have the classic Episcopal raised folks who were trained as children to simply guide the chalice from the bottom using only the thumbs. They are also the ones who approach the altar head down and extend their hands right over left palms facing up all the while never looking up but gazing down. This is a sacred moment. Then you have folks who want to take the chalice from the LEM as if to say, "I'll take a good swig thanks" Not sure if it's because we are serving wine at 10: 30 in the morning or whether they figure a good dose of Jesus in the wine will actually help them make it through the week. Finally, there are the dippers. Some barely touch the wine with their wafer while others you would think that the wafer is the tortilla chip "Scoops" and they are going in for a good amount of salsa. The wafer along with fingers, knuckles, almost their entire hand goes into the chalice, swishing around fishing for something then BAM! the wine drenched wafer emerges to be popped into the mouth. Like KFC it's "finger lickin good." Yes, the LEMS have a challenge with each person they approach, Will this person be guiding the cup or am I going in for a tug of war? Ah I see this one is a dipper, I need to bend down a bit and is it possible for the person to dip without using all the hand? Heaven forbid someone drop the entire wafer into the cup! Now what do I do? You can see how challenging it is all for the sake of having a sacred moment with God.

From AMA to MOMMA B

2009-10-18T18:12:00.000-04:00

Last post was all about what to call me as a priest. But there is another name dilemma on the horizon one which just may change the course of life as I know it. I am about to be a grandmother twice over within the next 3 months. Baby # 1 who will live in the area is due within 6 weeks then #2 will arrive about 6 weeks after that. NOW I have to figure out what grandmother name I shall use; oh the choices! There's Granny like my grandmother, Nana like my other grandmother, I looked up the name choices online and here's what I found for traditional names: Big Mom, Gram,Gramma,Grammy,Grams,Grandma,Grandmama,Grandmom,Grandmother,Grannie, Ma or Maw, Mamo,MawMaw,Mema,Memaw,Mom-Mom,Nana,Nanny. Modern names: Bebe, Bella, Gigi, G-Ma, G-Mom, Honey, Lovey, MayMay, Mia, Mim, Mimi, Nina.
Well I can't be Granny because my grandmother was old and had long white hair that she wore in a bun on top of her hair and even though I LOVED her she wore those old lady kind of shoes; I wear bandolinos. Nana is out too, she wore a mixture of sherry, cigarettes and Emeraude perfume. I don't like sherry, don't smoke and ivory soap is my perfume of choice. What I WANTED was to be Gigi. We called my mother Gigi because one of the grandkids could not pronounce Georgie which is what My mother wanted, but it came out Gigi and it stuck. I look like Gigi, I talk like her, laugh like her and even worry like her so why can't I be GIGI 2? No, I was informed by all of the kids, including the 2 of mine who will have my grandchildren soon that there is only one GIGI and "no offense Mom but you ain't her."

Hmm this produces a dilemma because any of the traditional names I simply associate with getting older. Yes I know that I am but don't really need to flaunt it. That leaves the modern names. Did you notice that GIGI is in there? I don't like any of the others. So I took a quiz to help me figure out which name would fit from the website grandparents.about.com. Here's what the results have to say:

You're always perfectly turned out, never dowdy. Your grandchildren will never be embarrassed to be seen with you, and they'll appreciate your well-chosen gifts. As they get older, they'll seek your advice about fashion and grooming. Although you have a stunning exterior, there's more substance to you than your critics could imagine. Glamma is the perfect grandmother name for you, but Mimi, Bella and Gigi are other apt choices. Did you notice that Gigi is one of the choices? Yeah in a long shot I'll be called that. Bella is not bad, but I've been watching some Tyler Perry movies with Madea and I like her attitude; not sure Bella has enough attitude so for now I guess I'll try Momma B as in "ya better listen to me!" Guess I'll find out when the grandbabies arrive and we see how it all plays out.

Call me Rev, Pastor, Ama or Father just not Mother!

2009-10-08T08:06:00.000-04:00

What do we call you? That's always a challenging question isn't it? My name is Beth? yes, but what do we call you? How about Beth? Nah. can't call you Beth! But that's my name. Just doesn't seem right. Why? Well, you know you're a priest. Unhuh and? ... well just doesn't feel right. Well, they called me Father Beth at my internship. Father Beth? Yup. why? Dunno Guess they didn't feel like they could call me Beth either. Yeah but father? You're not a guy. Nope definitely not a guy. But it was kind of neat using a term typically used for male priests. gives a new twist to the way you say it doesn't it? Huh Father Beth, nah can't do it what about Mother Beth? Whoa slow down, big red flag arms waving, alert alert, bobbing of head ensues along with creepy crawly hair standing on end type of feelin.

No can do? why not? we call male priests Father why not female priests Mother. Why not? Cause and hear me clearly on this I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER! I don't want to be your mother. I don't want to act like your mother. No way not gonna be Mother Beth. Been there done that have 3 count em 3 who call me their mother and it is going to remain that way. Move on to another choice.

well how about Pastor? no too close to pasteurize I'd feel like a glass of milk or something. Rev? yeah just like a speed car racer. Keep trying we'll figure it out.

A few weeks pass finally I suggest how about AMA Beth no not the A.M.A. American Medical Association. Ama? What does that mean? AMA can mean Ask Me Anything ( which in reality is how this priesting works) curiously though "ama" is also Nigerian for creator god the Potter, Creates the Human Body (Jukun/Nigeria) Ama, the creator, a high god, may be a fusion of two or more gods, being sometimes regarded as a male being, at others as a female, sometimes as the creator, other times as the earth goddess or world mother. Yeah well I am definitely NOT GOD so that meaning is not close to what would work. My daughter found this definition "ama" are Japanese divers, famous for collecting pearls. I like this meaning, but amma (with an extra m) means An abbes or spiritual mother. Yeah OK so it is a version of the whole mother thing, but it stuck. So for now it's Ama Beth whether you think it refers to the diver of pearls (metaphorically of course), or my personal favorite Ask Me Anything, unless you prefer Father Beth 'cause personally I kind of like that one too.

So what to call me? Well, I'll answer to anything except Mother unless it is kid #1,2,or 3 saying it then maybe I'll answer depends on what it is they want.

Daisy the parkour dog

2009-10-02T20:14:00.000-04:00

She looked so innocent when we first saw her. A little bundle of white fur. The perfect puppy friend for our other dog my favorite Reilly Malone. Reilley is a Wheaton terrier and he will kiss you all day long if you let him. He's fluffy and being an Irish breed looks like he has hit one too many pubs in one night. He's a 65 pound lap dog and we (well I) thought he looked a little depressed after our daughter, her husband and their dog Milo left after a visit. " I think Reilley's depressed." Big Pappi just grunted. Hmmm after a while, "Why do you think that?" "Well he's just sort of hanging around since they left." "And this is different from what he usually does how?" "I dunno, he just looks different sorta sad." "He'll get over it." " Maybe he needs a playmate." "Because the 3 cats aren't enough?" I just shrugged and started looking online for a playmate for Reilley, because well Reilley needed a buddy. I looked for quite a while a few months actually, off and on but didn't find that right fit.

Then we were out and we saw her amongst all the other pups, a little bundle of white. We did the puppy test to see if she was playful or aggressive and all the signs pointed to good nature not overly aggressive or active, pretty quiet. We brought her home and introduced her to Reilley and they seemed to get along.

Then it happened, she got possessed or something, all of a sudden. She must have studied the opening scene to the latest James Bond movie. The scene where Bond is chasing a guy using the technique called parkour. In wikepedia parkour is defined as, "physical discipline of French origin in which participants run along a route, attempting to negotiate obstacles in the most efficient way possible, as if moving in an emergency situation, using skills such as jumping and climbing, or the more specific parkour moves. The obstacles can be anything in one's environment" Yup she must have studied it because all of a sudden I've got a dog that can't just walk from one to room to another she needs to leap from chair to ottoman to floor to chair to ledge over the kitchen table to the floor again, just to get a drink of water. She is half kangaroo/ half frog as she does not know how to walk; she leaps over furniture, over people and has figured out how to get up on top of the center island with the stove and consume an entire pan of shrimp scampi.

She gets "the Look" and then she begins the obstacle course. This usually happens even when we have just come home for an hour of running wild at the local cranberry bog. You'd think she would be exhausted, like Reilley; at least he realizes, "I've just run crazy for an hour, I need to sleep for about 23." Nope, not Daisy, she rests for all of five minutes then she gets "the look" and starts the whole parkour routine. Her latest trick is to parkour into the family room from the kitchen after having consumed water, crumbs and at times I admit her own poop! ( Triple GROSS OUT I know) over chairs, around ottomans over people and over my laptop, which is sitting on my lap while I try to work, landing full speed on my chest to snuggle my neck so I look like I am wear a very bad version of a rabbit fur collar.

Did I bring her to the Blessing of the Animals yesterday at church? No, Ama Beth spared her congregation and all the other "normal" dogs from Daisy the parkour dog. Besides she does not need to be blessed, I am thinking an exorcism is in line. Whatta ya think? Blessing or exorcism?

Father Beth and angel lady

2009-10-02T17:50:00.000-04:00

She loved angels.; angels everywhere and on everything, bags, shirts, shoes, hats. She was the angel lady and I don't think I even knew her real name. "Father Beth, you gotta help me out."
(They all called me Father Beth, the folks at my internship site, a soup kitchen and church. I really don't know why they called me Father Beth. I was a student and they knew one day I would be ordained, they could have chosen Mother Beth, Pastor Beth, or just Beth but it was Father Beth, even though I was just a student, it didn't matter, I was Father Beth to all of them.)

"What can I do for you?" "It's my Mom I gotta have you do a funeral for her." " Oh, I'm so sorry to hear." After the requisite, when? how are you doing? exchange I asked, " So, what funeral home should I contact?" "No funeral home, already did that." "Well where is she?' "Right here in this here bag." Holding up a shopping bag. Inside to self, " Did I just hear this right. Is this woman CARRYING her dead mother around in a bag? in my mind I shake my head as if I have not heard right. Outside, I say, " You say, right there? in the bag? Really?" "Yup, wanna see?"
( No not really, don't want to see, not sure why but even cremated remains that someone is casually carting around EVERYWHERE seem a bit creepy to me. What happens if you forget and leave the bag somewhere? What happens when you see someone at lunch and they come up and say "Hey, haven't seen you in a while say hi to your Mom. What? then you lean into the bag and say "Hey Mom so and so says 'hi'?"

I change gears, "So, what were you thinking of doing?" Angel lady wants a few prayers said in the chapel before she heads to Florida with Mom in tow. " I'm bringin her with me. She's gonna stay on my mantle, but all I got is this blue box and I can't afford an urn." So what does one do in this situation? It is clear, go shopping at Michael's craft store see if you can find something for MOM. We headed to mall shopping bag with us which of course we couldn't leave in the car so the bag took up the front part of the shopping cart. If someone had told me that I would be shopping with a nearly homeless woman, mom's ashes in a box in the front part of the cart I would have said, 'Yeah right!" But that's what we did. We looked at urns and wooden boxes and finally decided on a box that could be decorated with all the angel stickers angel lady could fit on it leaving space to write in her mother's name and a couple of Bible verses. All throughout the spree, angel lady related all the favorite memories of her mother, she laughed she cried.

Box completed, we transferred the ashes from the box in the shopping bag to the angel box and headed to the chapel where we sat in silence for awhile. Prayers followed then angel lady hugged me and headed out the door and off to Florida, all set to go to a new life, Mom in tow. And THAT was my very first funeral as Father Beth even though I wasn't "official" yet!

Finding Grace behind bars

2009-09-22T18:07:00.000-04:00

"You're up Beth. This call's for you." It 's the first week of the chaplain experience. There are 4 of us interns working in various sections of he hospital. You would have thought that maybe I drew the short straw when picking assignments, but I actually asked to be on the prison ward. "Why? I have no idea; some sort of warped sense of maybe that would be the scariest place so why not go there?"

"There's a guy requesting an Episcopal priest." OK so I was not a priest yet but I was the next closest thing. "Wish me luck or something!" Lenny the supervisor smiled and waved good-bye. I wondered if he was secretly thinking, " What was this girl thinking. She is about as far away from the experience of prison life as you could get; almost a country bumpkin." Working on the prison ward you don't get to just waltz in with your fake smile that says, "Wow, this is uncomfortable but I am going to be nice no matter what. I will ask wonderful questions and we will talk about God and sing Kumbaya and all will be well." All the while you are really wondering, "Now what? Those tubes are starting to freak me out and 'eeyew! is that really poop coming out of that person." No such luck of just walking right into some one's room.

You still have to go through mini prison gates that open and close electronically. One door opens, you step inside and it closes, then you hand over everything you have on you, no paper, pens allowed then the gate to the ward opens and you are in a hospital with a prison ward complete with attitude laden guards. I was escorted to the inmate's room, yup they are still inmates who happen to be sick, NOT patients who happen to be prisoners. Think about that for just a second and you'll get an idea of how the folks were being treated. When off the "prison ward" for example, if you landed in ICU since you were an inmate you were shackled to your bed, in ICU where you are really sick and probably dying! Wouldn't want an escapee! from ICU.

" I got a call in the chaplain's office, Mr. Smith requesting an Episcopal priest." "Yeah and so?"- guard
"I am here to see him." (thinking to myself- what a joy you are to be around, spare the sarcasm, just show me to the guy's room)
" Well remember, no physical contact, no asking what they're in for and don't accept anything from them! Got it?" (Yup I got it in other words be a cold s.o.b. just like sweet ole you)

I am shown to the room where a very small birdlike guy complete with a beak like nose is just there. Flat out on the bed, tattoos everywhere breathing slowly eyes closed.

" So, Mr. Smith, I understand you wanted to see me?" nothing no reaction. " Well, we have something in common ... you and uh I that is we're both Episcopalian, how about that?
( Definitely way too chipper even for me) That's interesting because you know we are not exactly living in the hub of Episcopal land."
Silence, silence that goes on forever! then a lift of the head, an open eye and a comment, " I think you have the wrong person, I'm a Buddhist."

( To self "Oh sweet mother of God! is this like a joke are you flippin kiddin me?! What am I supposed to do now! is this a set up? like get the rookie intern am i on Candid Camera have I been punked?) To Mr. Smith..."Well then I am guessing the whole prayin to Jesus is not really going work for ya is it?" A chuckle from Mr. Smith. I share my limited knowledge of Buddhism and then ask him, " Do you think I could come visit anyway and maybe you could teach me some more about Buddhism?" A smile and a nod.

Over the 12 weeks, Mr. Smith got better, got worse, went to ICU, where I was allowed to bring in books, and I read meditations from thich nhat hanh then went back up to 8 North. Our last meeting:
" I've come to say good-bye and to thank you." Puzzled look on his face. " I want to thank you for being so kind to me, so gracious in teaching me about Buddhism and the peaceful way. " Tears rolling down his cheeks. " Why the tears?" I know you are going to miss me and all but .." ( I am feeling very awkward and it is a bad attempt at a joke) He regains composure briefly and mumbles out, " no one, not once has ever called me kind or gracious in my whole life, ever." We both dissolve into tears.... there are just no words to describe what we both learned in our 12 weeks together.

Jazz of Preaching

2009-09-18T11:48:00.000-04:00

I learned to love jazz as a child. My parents would listen to Big Band but also loved the music of Ella Fitzgerald, Nat King Cole and of course Satchmo Louis Armstrong. Saturday nights were filled with music and dancing in my house. I wasn't but 5 but my dad would lead me around the living room my tiny feet on top of his and we would twirl and swing to the music of all the greats that he and my Mom had grown up with. No girations of Elvis with hips a movin, No, this was music that flowed and was smooth as the Java that Ella sang about.

So when the course catalog announced the preaching class called " The Jazz of Preaching" I knew I would be hooked. After all who wouldn't be intrigued with a class where we would not learn that you are supposed to have 3 points to make in sermon but would get to listen to all sorts of jazz music. What does jazz have to do with preaching? Actually a lot. Jazz and improv and the way in which a jazz musician approaches a piece all have applications to learning how to preach a sermon.

One lesson that stuck out was watching Duke Ellington improv on the piano. Imagine Duke is seated at the piano, initially sitting straight back playing, just simply playing. As he gets deeper into the piece he shifts on the bench, he moves a bit closer to the keys, now he hunches his back a bit, closes his eyes, thinking, pondering where the journey will take him? where is this musical trip going to land? He pauses, ever so slightly, so slightly you really have to be paying attention to his body language or you'll miss it. A change in expression a slight curve in the side of his mouth upwards making a smirk, realization, "Ahha, yes, so this is where we will go!" and off the fingers continue to fly until the next juncture of the improv. This is "leaning in" to a piece in jazz music, submitting self to the possibilities of new discoveries about the notes, the rhythm, the style. Being attentive to the spaces in between the notes, the not yet played. So how does this fit into preaching?

Often instead of simply taking the Bible passages at face value, improv allows me to look at what has been left out; the story behind the story. Wikepedia lists Midrash as "a way of interpreting biblical stories that goes beyond simple distillation of religious, legal or moral teachings. It fills in many gaps left in the biblical narrative regarding events and personalities that are only hinted at. ^[1] in a way that's how jazz helps in preaching; opens up the creative juices.
Take the following Bible quote: “What were you arguing about on the way?” ( Jesus asks) ³⁴But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest." Mark 9:33-34. Using jazz I might envision the argument the following way.

Andrew,"It's me he's going to pick me! I just know it. Who was the one with the biggest boat? Me. We all fit in my boat plenty of room, plenty of fish too yes it's me! After all the number one person needs to be able to have him travel in style.
John: Really? you think he cares about the fish, he doesn't care about the fish! He wants us to be healers like him and I certainly have that knack. I healed more than any of you. He'll pick me no doubt about it I healed 20, in one day too, not too mention the fact that I sent a few demons running. ( James under breath: "yeah could be because you hadn't bathed in a couple of weeks and they couldn't stand the smell though could they?")
John: What's that James? How many did you heal?
Peter: Hold on hold on! you seem to forget that not only did he take James and John and I up to the mountaintop ---- Andrew : you and your mountaintop visions!"
Peter: Andrew not jealous are you? and I was the one who correctly identified him as the Messiah! so I think we all know who is going to be number one in Jesus' book.

on and on the argument goes. What does it mean for me as a preacher? Makes the text a bit more accessible to me in the 21st century and I figure if I have a better idea maybe I can relate it a bit better to others.

The church's idea of "hazing" AKA the seminary experience.

2009-09-18T11:24:00.000-04:00

I never experienced the "rush" of sorority week while at college, nor in my youth did I play organized sports; basketball and field hockey were about the only team sports we had for girls in my high school days, so I never under went the ritual of "hazing". According to Miriam Webster's dictionary the word, circa 1855, is defined as " an initiation process involving humiliation." So today's blog title is tongue and cheek. Having been a high school administrator in the early 1990's I know that hazing was and is no laughing matter. It is a serious and often dangerous situation all too often found at the high school level. Still when one is called to ordained ministry, there is definitely a process that is involved.

One does not simply surf the web and get a certificate pronouncing one an ordained minister; at least that's not how in works in most mainline churches with which I am familiar. For me the journey through 3 1/2 years of full time classes, 3 year long internships and an intensive 12 weeks working as a chaplain in a hospital sometimes did feel like an initiation rite and on more than one occasion was a bit humiliating.

Actually, the feeling stupid part came right away, first class. The professor opened his mouth, spoke and I leaned over to the newbie sitting next to me and asked, "Is he speaking another language? I didn't think this was the Greek class." The deer in the headlights look I got in return spoke volumes, she too had landed on planet 'No Clue' and so we both began scribbling page after page of notes. Unlike previous collegiate experiences I had had where classes either met 2 or 3 times a week for a total of 3 "college" hours, not unlike the psychiatric hour of 50 minutes, this class went on for a full 3 hours; 180 minutes; 10,800 seconds. By the end of the class, I still had no clue what he was talking about, had about 400 pages to read, a 7 page paper to write on a topic whose only word I recognized was God. Then it was off to the next class that day; equally intimidating, but at least in this class I recognized some of the words as the professor romped us through about 500 years of ancient history in 3 hours.

In 6 hours I had gone from an educated woman with a Master's Degree in Education, having taught French, German and Spanish for 14 years and been a High School Assistant Principal juggled 3 kids, a house, a spouse and a career (OK so not that well but I had juggled them!) to feeling like an absolute, unskilled, clueless bunch a nothin. "Was this how Moses felt when God asked him to go to Pharaoh and say let my people go?" I was thinking Moses had it easy at least he spoke the language all he had to do was tell the big bad Pharoah guy let the slaves go or else..
Yup- God did the rest with plagues and such. Moses definitely had it easier than this!!!

And this was just day one I had another 16 weeks and then 3 more years, how in the world was I going to finish this. It was a whole new territory with a new language; special code words that would have even given Dan Brown, author of the DaVinci Code a run for his money; words like hermeneutics, homiletics, systematic theology, eschatology, exegesis.( see Wikepedia for all definitions) I particularly like the last term; exegesis- "critical interpretation of the Bible" man oh man sometimes it felt like "Exit- Jesus". Dissecting word choices and meanings and context and history sometimes felt like Jesus had left the building along with Elvis!

Gradually I got used to the new language although you won't ever hear me use these terms in casual conversation; not the sort of terminology that fits into general day to day life. After a while I found the ebb and flow of school work, realized that I really could get by with skimming much of the reading and that the classes were not so much about cramming information into my increasingly jammed up brain, but more about understanding how God, Jesus and life fit together. Learning about the people and history of the Israelites and the stories of Jesus and the dsiciples felt like the struggles were not so unlike today; who has power who does not have power and WHY? and where in the world was GOD? It was like one big "where's Waldo?" story only the people and places were different and Waldo was God; sometimes easy to see others times a bit more challenging.

Before I knew it classes were almost done, I had conquered the new language never to be used again. I no longer felt totally clueless; some days I actually thought I did have a clue; that was until I started my chaplaincy on a prison ward in a hospital.. yes you read that correctly I was going behind bars for 12 weeks... headed for 8 North and more lessons.

There's always an angle

2009-09-16T17:11:00.000-04:00

You discover who your true friends are when you tell them big news. If telling Big Pappi about my "call" to ordained ministry was hard, then telling certain friends was no less difficult. Some folks, those in my faith community were not really surprised when they heard the BIG NEWS. Even my parents and brothers were pretty cool with it, actually my mom and dad cried. My mom had fond memories of her grandfather (gramps) who had been a minister, but telling my other friends proved a challenge. I wondered if they would continue to be my buddies, especially those whose kids mine had grown up with. We had laughed at soccer and football, had carpooled and bonded over coffee, other Mom libations and our favorite local ice cream shop; our favorite snack: small Moosetracks ice cream cone with a beer chaser.

The day finally arrived when I gathered up enough courage to tell my good friend KAYOH the BIG NEWS. Now KAYOH is a self confessed member of the church of St. Mattress. In reality a lapsed Catholic with lots of escapades during her Catholic High School upbringing, but she just couldn't get past certain issues with her religious upbringing so she took to seeking God during good weather in her garden, tending veggies and flowers, digging and watering, it rejuvenated her.

We were walking the track because after all the kids were running around at soccer so we had to find some way to justify the moose tracks snack so walking the track seemed to fit the bill. As usual we were discussing the joys of parenthood while working full time and whether or not this would be the week " wild thing" my youngest would again attempt to tackle a soccer player to get the ball forgetting that he was not playing American football but European football, no "sacking" the center allowed! I paused and said, " I've got something to tell you and not sure how to say this...." We slowed a bit and she said hmmm..." Well you see the thing of it is, I 'm not crazy but I think I am supposed to be a minister, like a priest." She stopped dead in the tracks. If people had been walking behind us it would have been like a bad car pile up on the highway after a sudden snow storm ices over the roads; one car slams on the brakes and skids the one behind it hits until there is a mess of broken cars and angry folks on the road. "Wow, I thought you were going to tell me you had cancer or something... Wow. She didn't say much at first then she turned to me and asked, "Will you have to wear those white collars like the Catholic priest?" " I suppose, hadn't really gotten that far in my thought process Kayohhh." " Well we could work an angle you know. " "An angle?" " Yeah you know if we are out partying ( let me be clear, we did not hang out at bars partying, you've heard of fantasy football, this was her idea of fantasy Mommy life!) well then you could drive, wear your collar, then if the cops pull us over, we're clear, they never arrest or ticket priests! yeah we could really make this work for us." It was at that moment I knew that my best friend was saying, OK I can deal with this and that she would stand by me through the whole process. Stand by me she did, she wrote a recommendation and when I was ordained she hand quilted the stoles I have; one for every season. ( for a definition of stole and some history see /www.apparelsearch.com/Definitions/Clothing/stole.htm) Yeah the angle; we've never really had to use it be at least she knows its there!

The really BIG news!

2009-09-14T07:56:00.000-04:00

The anniversary celebration continued. After having survived the near death experience by Big Pappi's golf ball on the 11th hole, we finished the game, still alive for me and still married for him. Lunch ensued and for the life I don't think I cared what I ate, I was out without the 3 kids; cook me anything as long as I didn't have to shop for it, cook it or clean up after it I was a happy woman. Then came our other anniversary tradition; the annual year review. We shared what had gone on in life, kids stuff, car pools, soccer games, football games, music lessons, work ups and downs, the usual life stuff, never enough money, sleep or "adult"time.

This year was different though I had really big news to share with Big Pappi and I was pretty certain he was not going to be thrilled. No I was not pregnant, I had had that work done shortly after the youngest aka "wild thing" had shown up so unless some doc slipped and forgot to snip I was good.
No this was news that was even scary to me. I was actually afraid to share this with Big Pappi, which doesn't say much for my trust in him but really how does one approach the conversation,
" Hey by the way, I know we've got this pretty good life here, great kids, nice house etc, but I think God wants me to be a minister." Seriously???

Seriously! I was pretty nervous about telling him but a large gulp of water some nervous twitches of the hands and then, "So I've been thinking, umm, I know I left my job last year 'cause I was unhappy, and we thought it was because trying to do it all was too much with the kids and everything and umm you know you and I working together at your place hasn't really been the best fit ( OK it's been a DISASTER) well see the thing of it is I've been talking to our priest and well uh, ummm not sure how to say this but I think I am supposed to be a minister." There I had said it gotten the word out" minister" priest, God worker and then I waited and waited for a reaction. That's the thing about Big Pappi, a lot of times he just has little reaction; super calm. I could not read him. There he sat just kind of like stone faced, not angry, not jumping for joy which I did not really expect, just sort of "pondering" trying to take all this in the magnitude of what it might mean for us and our family.

"What does DB (our priest) think?" he asked. "Well when I went to him he said get this, ' I've been waiting for you to come and talk to me about this for a couple of years now but could not tell you because if I had you would have probably run in the other direction.' He had that right I would have left the faith community, the institution and any kind of faith life never to return."

Let me be clear I was freaking out. Here I was a soccer Mom who was busy doing the suburban housewife thing, carpools and cookouts, scout meetings and music lessons, what in the name of anything sacred would the Big Kahuna ( yes at this point I was increasingly sarcastic with the way I dealt with the situation) want me to do the work of a priest? Priests are.. fill in the blank,
smart, really smart, you need to be like perfect, you need to have read the Bible MOM, you need to be a super prayerful person. Your friends will no longer be your friends because they will think they also have to be perfect, you will never be normal. Normal regular people do not become priests. Yoou have to be nice to everybody! and you have to visit people in the hospital when they are sick with gross tubes hanging out of them and people will need you to be there 24/7 and when people die you will need to have the exact right words to say and people will judge the way you look, the house you live, in the car you drive and your kids. Now your kids will also need to be perfect little angels no mistakes allowed. On and on it went in my head. I was nauseated and had a constant headache. It was also true that faith had been part of my life since childhood. My great grandfather was an Episcopal priest, my uncle was an Episcopal priest. I had been brought up in the church and had been active in the church, In fact Big Pappi and I met in church doing youth group stuff. So it should stand to reason that this area of life was not totally foreign to me. Yet.... it felt completely strange, this was not just a different level we are talking this was a different stratosphere, you know Twilight Zone type of stuff.

This journey would be like becoming a parent; you read books, your prepare and when the baby arrives you find out that there is no manual to guide you there is only love. In the end it is only about love and the ability to live that out in the best way possible. For Big Pappi, practically the first thing he did was to sign up for additional classwork in religion in his spare time so we could kind of learn together. And that is why I love him!!!

Big Pappi nearly does Mama Beth in with a golf ball and the really BIG news

2009-09-10T06:59:00.000-04:00

There is a reason when playing golf that one does not stand in front of someone who is teeing off. You can be hit by the ball especially if the person does not have much control over how and where the golf club connects with the ball. I knew this, I had been playing golf for a couple years, even had lessons, I still stunk at it but hey it was never about the level of play but getting out in the fresh air and taking time to enjoy the process and progression of the game.

So the day of our wedding anniversary when I was still Mama and not yet Ama, Big Pappi and I headed to the local golf course for 18 holes followed by lunch. This was a new experience; anniversaries including those while very pregnant usually involved driving 90 minutes to the Wayside Inn in Sudbury Ma. where we had made our undying vows to one another in a rose garden followed by an intimate dinner for 12. Each year we would drive back, walk the garden have dinner and then drive home. Not sure why and how that tradition changed but it did; perhaps the addition of 3 kids, schedules and jobs to juggle, vacations, just got us out of the habit.

I was excited to golf and have lunch, a whole 1/2 day no KIDS! woohoo! Golfing and I had BIG news!!! This was going to be fun until we arrived at the 11th hole. Big Pappi had started slicing a couple of holes earlier. Slicing according to Ty Daniels, golf pro is defined as, " when the ball curves hard right. A slice is the most common mistake of amateur golfers, by hitting the ball with an open club face and causing the ball to slice hard right. A slice can also be from moving your lower body quicker than your upper body making it so your club face is open on impact."

Yup that's what Big Pappi was a doin'. He'd tee up, take a couple of practice swings and then whale on the ball. It would go right; sometimes into the trees, sometimes into the water, sometimes into the next fairway.When that happened I figured he was just trying to get through the game faster. " Not likin this hole hey, so you just ready to skip to the next one?" Of course my little amusing quips were not so amusing to him and like any typical amateur Saturday only or a couple of times a season type of golf player who is having a hard time with the game, he got more and more frustrated and then kept doing worse and worse. He was a in a vortex getting sucked down further and further and fast. It did not help that my shots while not going far were straight down the fairway. What I lacked in distance I made up for with accuracy. So in my infinite wisdom I just finally shut up. Yes this took a while for me to learn, but as I have said before sometimes I am a slow learner.

Knowing the risk for getting hit I did not stand in front of him, however on this particular hole neither did I stand completely behind him. I was standing parallel to his side about 10-15 feet. If you had looked at us our shoulders would have made a straight line. You could have given him a piece of string and said, "hold up your hand and hold this string" and then given me the string and said, " hold up your left had" and it would have been a straight line like a yardstick. That is just how shoulder to shoulder we were. This should have been OK right? And then Big Pappi did the shot that is impossible which should have been filmed as a educational tool of how not to hit the ball. He lined up, looked at the hole and took a couple of practice swings and then then he swung like there was no tomorrow. He swung so hard that the ball left the tee and came whizzing in front of my eyes.

The impossible slice. The ball went so far to the right that he nearly killed me standing right there on the 11th hole of the golf course. This was no ordinary " hard right" shot. I am not sure it is even possible in the law of physics that a shot like this is feasible. I did not know whether to laugh, cry or curse. Knowing me the latter was what happened followed by laughter.

" Are ya trying to tell me something, Dave?" For #@(*^%) sake you nearly killed me! What, you want to raise 3 kids by yourself? Never thought it would end like this! Happy Anniversary to you too! ( thinking to myself, "no problem payback will happen at lunch when I tell him THE NEWS!!") Would you like to take that shot over again HONEYYYYY???

Yes of course he wanted to take that shot over and where did I stand? 25 feet behind him and behind a bit of fencing that the golf course folks had put up. So maybe they had had other players with an impossible slice swing too. There should have been a sign for those of us innocent partners who simply trust that when you hit the ball it will go FORWARD! not Sideways!. The sign perhaps would have read, " WARNING! THIS IS THE HOLE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE SLICE. BE AWARE THAT GOLFERS MAY EXPERIENCE UNUSUAL TENDENCIES FOR THEIR BALLS TO GO PARALLEL. WE ARE WORKING ON THIS SITUATION. IN THE FUTURE BUMPER PADS LIKE THOSE AT BOWLING ALLEYS WILL BE CONSTRUCTED SO THAT SHOTS WILL BE REDIRECTED DOWN THE FAIRWAY. UNTIL THEN GOLF PARTNERS SHOULD STAY BACK WAY WAY BACK. ***** WIVES, NO YOUR HUSBAND IS NOT ATTEMPTING TO KILL YOU FOR THE INSURANCE MONEY. THERE IS NOT ENOUGH MONEY IN THE WORLD TO REPLACE THE PERSON WHO IS PERSONAL CHEF, NANNY, BUS DRIVER, GARDENER AND ABOVE HIS CALL GIRL.

We finished and Big Pappi actually started to improve after that hole and then it was off to lunch and the BIG news!!!

to be continued.......

PB bananas and Java Juice

2009-09-07T09:32:00.000-04:00

Neither Mama Beth nor Ama Beth functions very well without her morning cup of java juice aka nectar of the coffee gods. Since high school the food part of the best meal of the day has been pretty standard and boring but yummy; toasted English muffin with peanut butter and a banana. College days added the java juice and adult years have morphed the muffin to whole wheat and the PB to all natural, organic, no salt. The java juice, on the other hand has definitely gone through a metamorphoses over the years.

I sometimes wonder if the Gospel of John (Holy Bible- New Testament, 4th Gospel) had been written at a local Starbucks if he would have started it this way, " In the beginning was java juice and the java juice was with God and God could not do any creating without the java juice so java juice was with God in the beginning. Through java juice all things were made possible. In java juice was life and that life was the light of all etc etc.

My journey with coffee has been long, involved and at times very confusing to me. For many years, the soccer Mom years, I would drink whatever my husband poured into my over sized mug (but it's only one cup right?) in the morning, but it better be the FIRST thing I get in the morning. Husband or Big Pappi as I like to call him ( he's not so fond of this) is frugal sometimes overly so. He just does not see the sense in paying extravagant amounts of money for a disposable like coffee so we have fluctuated between whatever was on sale and if the larger can was the best buy then we got it and then took forever to use it up. To give Big Pappi major credit he has, along the way, acquiesced to my various obsessions regarding food. Like the year I spent a month in France with exchange students. I came home wanting be the next Julia Child and we ate well and drank red wine and had lovely cheeses. Then the kids' schedule got more and more hectic and I went back to school full time to begin the journey from Mama Beth to Ama Beth and it was au revoir to Julia and bonjour to Cafe takeout!

It was during my studies at seminary that coffee took on a whole new meaning. I had become a Dunky girl. Dunkin Donuts in Massachusetts, where everyone knows your name, the way you like your coffee and can be found on just about every street corner in my neck of the world. Medium, milk, 2 Splenda. Easy straight forward right! and then I met my buddy Sue at seminary. Now she was a java juice queen and she introduced me to the land of Starbucks.

My first visit I thought I had landed on some other worldly planet. People everywhere yelling things like, " I'll have a 1/2 decaf, extra foam, no fat, sugar on the side, grande, double espresso.." and on and on it went. When I got up to the counter, I had the old deer in the headlights look and said in that voice that is somewhere between shock and shame and meekly said, "I'd like a cup of coffee, just coffee with milk. Do you sell that here?" The folks at the counter all stopped dead in tracks and everything became slow motion. " We've got a newbie." I was looked at like I spoke a foreign language so the counter person loudly and slowly said, " Yes, it is called a venti or grande. Do you want anything in it ?" Hey I was not deaf and I was speaking English just not Starbuckese. However, I soon got into the flow of things and could order like a pro. My pocketbook however, was getting thinner and so I ended up going back to the at home option; even Dunky's as we fondly call Dunkin Donuts here was out of the question. Boy did I miss the flavor though. Little did I know that I was soon to discover the perfect "blend."

This past year our church set up a micro business to raise funds specifically for Outreach projects. The product- coffee; really GOOD coffee. We joined with Jim's organic coffees which is roasted right here in Massachusetts. What I really like about Jim's coffee besides the taste is the fact that it is organic, shade grown, fair trade and earth friendly. The farmers actually receive a wage they can live off of, the earth is treated with respect and to boot Jim has used his profits to build a library in a small village in Guatemala. That to us is a winning combination. While I get to have a cup of this wonderful java juice each morning, that's about all the credit I can take. Charlette is our java queen and she along with our "coffee docs" have created this micro business from scratch. Within a couple of months Church Street Coffee was born, a blend of Honduran and Ugandan beans, medium roast. We specialize in any non- profit sector as well as churches, synagogues, anyone who would like to serve coffee with a purpose at meetings or fellowship time. Our other avenue is to help organizations and clubs, kid's sports' teams etc to conduct fundraisers which are more profitable than say selling chocolate bars. Church Street coffee will yield faster profits. ( and we will ship anywhere!) So, I am now drinking Church Street Coffee as my morning wake-up call. Who knew that my cup of coffee could actually help provide someone in Central America or Africa with a sustainable income as well as help the environment.
So what's is your morning cup of java juice????

My Gremlin's name is O'Crap

2009-09-04T08:41:00.000-04:00

Our church sponsors a weekly support group for the unemployed. It all started last year with a prayer. Someone, during the prayers of the people randomly (not) but moved by the Holy Spirit prayed for all the people who were out of work or facing job losses. Sitting in the congregation was a parishioner who had just lost his job that week. This parishioner approached me at the end of the service a bit rattled by the fact that someone had prayed out loud for his exact situation. The fellow was appreciative of the fact that someone had named and prayed for his predicament. That is usually how I find faith works. What seems to be out of the blue usually has a connection somewhere along the way.

Later in the week I heard at least 2 more stories about folks in our church being laid off. This is the way the Holy Spirit works with me. She generally puts situations in my path continually until I wake up and realize, " Hello! what are going to do about this?" She can be VERY persistent. Other people may hear her once and get her message. I, on the other hand, have very selective hearing and usually need to have a 2 by 4 hit me over the head before I see the big picture. Did I mention I am a slow learner when it comes to the God stuff?

So, I thought "Well what are we as a church going to do about this? What do we have to offer?"
We have space." That's all just space. Perhaps you were thinking we had all sorts of ways to magically create jobs. I am not sure even Jesus is up for that; water into wine-sure! (Holy Bible Book of John Chapter 2) Jobs, that's another matter.

Long story short- I threw out the idea of offering a support group for people who were unemployed. Suddenly I had a psychologist who runs groups who offered to volunteer his time, a couple of women who are career gurus who offered to come and talk about Resumes and using the internet for job searching. We were off and running. Most of the folks who are part of the group are not part of our Sunday morning faith community, but it definitely feels as though we have our own sort of "spiritual community" every Thursday.

Another lesson about the Holy Spirit I have learned; if it is meant to happen then it will, there will be energy, resources. There was and there is energy around this and we have been running weekly last March. Happily a couple of the folks who attend have finally gotten jobs. Unhappily many of them have not. It is pretty challenging trying to stay positive while one is attempting to pay the bills with unemployment benefits; basics, like food, housing and heat take on a new reality when there is little money coming into the household.

Gremlin (according to freedictionary.com) An imaginary gnomelike creature to whom mechanical problems, especially in aircraft, are attributed.

2. A maker of mischief.

This week we had a career coach come to give a presentation on remaining positive while unemployed. She presented us with the idea that often we have a gremlin of negative energy trying to bring us down. Some people call them the negative messages in our heads. The ones that go like, " You can't possibly do that job. You are no where near qualified." Or " Let's face it you are a terrible employee which is why you can't find a job, a number one LOSER!" The messages can go on and on. The counselor suggested we try to personify this "gremlin" to give it not only physical attributes but a personality. Mine ended up looking like the witch in the Disney movie Snow White; covered in black dress, hunched over with a toothless snarl and a huge nose with a big old hairy wart right in the middle of it. Then the counselor suggested we give this gremlin of ours a name, any name that popped into our heads and THAT is how my gremlin came to be known as Oh Crap! When I shared this with the group someone quipped "Oh so she is Irish!" so the spelling of course changed to O'Crap.

Frankly, I like the idea of having a name and image for all the negative messages that get sent my way throughout the day. At least now I can dialogue with O'Crap and folks won't think I am talking to myself.

"Why are you talking to yourself?" " Oh, I'm not, just have a little "tete a tete" with O'Crap! She is being very insistent that I can't blog or write or have a creative bone in my body." I am setting her straight and telling her to take her Crap elsewhere to go visit my brother for a while- he's been doing great and needs a little O'Crap in his life. On the other hand come to think of it he already has his gremlin visiting he's called "O'wheredidyouthinkyouwereallthat." His gremlin is from a different clan- so a visit is probably not the greatest of ideas. Guess I 'll have to send O'Crap elsewhere. Would you like a visit? It CAN be arranged you know.

Sacred feet, sacred toes, sacred shoes

2009-09-02T14:41:00.001-04:00

I am no Imelda Marcos when it comes to shoes but as of today there are about 40 pairs of assorted styles sitting in my closet. My love for cute shoes has not stopped even though I exchanged suits for stoles a few years ago. I love all types of shoes and was extremely frustrated when upon fracturing my ankle I found that it was practically impossible to negotiate a ski boat cast, crutches and a 3" sweet looking shiny red Bandolino! yes I tried and nearly fractured the other ankle.

Ten weeks later ankle repaired, therapy completed it should stand to reason that I could sport the Bandolinos right? Nope, not yet anyway. I could not bear to give up the Bandolinos or any of the other well heeled gear so flats were added to my group of cute footwear, along with sandals; open toes of course because it is summer and a perfect set of 10 in pink, red or coral are just the remedy for my inability to wear my heels.

Summer also brings with me the love for going barefoot, only at the beach- not so fond of going shoeless in the woods; the old piggies are just a bit too tender these days to be traipsing around stones, twigs and all. But what about going barefoot in church?

The horror! unimaginable! sacrilegious! Well we did! all of us. We came into church with shoes and gave them up so that we could donate our shoes of all sizes and shapes ( no heels though) to folks who have no shoes. We collected over 300 pair of shoes which were sent around the world
and it was one of the highlights of my summer. All those bare feet in the middle of our sacred space! I've already started to set aside some of my flats and sandals for next year's collected. With fall arriving, the ankle finally well healed it's time to dust off the Bandolinos and others.

So what's in your closet, what sacred shoes do you sport?

What books are Holy/sacred to you?

2009-09-01T08:21:00.000-04:00

I received a Facebook question from a friend. The discussion thread concerned a speech made by President Obama in which he quoted the Holy Qu'ran. The questioned offered was "Is the Qu'ran holy?" My reply yes just as the Torah is holy or the Bible. Reply back to me was " What about the Book of Mormon?" So what books are considered holy or sacred for you? Beyond some of the obvious answers are there books that you have read that have led you to think new ways about your faith journey? If so, what makes them sacred to you?

For me, movies as well as books can find their ways into my faith life. My all time favorite is Wizard of Oz. I think that Dorothy's search for something beyond herself only to find that it lies deep within herself is an example of what I mean.

Ama Beth

2009-08-31T17:21:00.001-04:00

First attempt at blogging. Ok so I find the whole blog thing intriguing given that I have finished reading Julie and Julia, seeing the movie, and happen to know someone who blogs and writes hysterically funny stuff. ( damomma; check it out if you have kids) But I am more intrigued by a Washington Post article my husband sent me about Facebook and spirituality, "Soul searching on Facebook." With the open ended ability under religious views, folks are invited/ encouraged to share their own faith within a limited amount of space. So here I begin a blog, wondering what are your religious views? Why are there so many people who consider themselves spiritual but do not belong to a faith community?

Confession #1 I am an Episcopal priest, but very genuinely curious about people and their spiritual lives. This is not a preaching blog; if you want that go to the church website or come to church. I have questions and would like to find out how are we gonna change this world and what does it mean to love your neighbor (really)
So if you are curious join in. I have few answers, only questions.