I'm making a broad assumption here, but I think it's a pretty common feeling among most folks who work during the week that the weekend will be a great time to vegetate, catch up on overdue reading, take in a baseball game on TV, or (as I've done for part of today) watch several episodes of TV Land's latest marathon -- in this case, "The Brady Bunch." There will of course be play time with the kids and quiet time with the spouse, but all-in-all a very relaxing weekend.
The poll question for today is: How often do things actually go according to plan?
It appears much of my day today was taken up with things that needed to be done, and the time for which just doesn't materialize during the week. Running from an early-morning beginner ballet class for my daughter, to taking care of business at the bank, to getting the car inspected, and then getting a haircut -- all combined, the entire morning was suddenly gone. And with laundry piling up, the afternoon is gone.
So where is the relaxation? The answer is that it can be in ANYTHING that you're doing. Ballet class gives me a chance to watch my wife and daughter spin and dance around the room with lots of other kids her age, all of whom are glad to be there. Going to the bank gives me a sense of relaxation that the family will continue to be provided for during the next few weeks. Having the car inspected gave me the time to sit oustide in the sunshine and read a bit from a really interesting book. And getting a haircut allows me the opportunity to catch up with the lady who does my hair and have a very relaxing conversation about families, vacations, and whatever else we think is worth noting.
I suppose that, as a whole, my lesson for today -- for myself as much as anyone -- is that the relaxation you expect for the weekend may not be where you think you'll find it, but it can certainly be in anything you do.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
A New Twist on the Prayer Book
While flipping through the latest issue of Episcopal Life, my wife ran across an advertisement for "The Hip Hop Prayer Book," published by Church Publishing, Inc., of New York. According to the ad, it was developed at Trinity Church of Morrisania, in the South Bronx, in an effort to extend the reach of their congregations.
They also included a portion of the 23rd Psalm, translated for the new audience. If this is any indication, it will be a very interesting version of the Episcopal prayer book to read.
The Lord is all that. I need for nothing. He allows me to chill.
He keeps me from being heated and allows me to breathe easy.
He guides my life so that I can represent and give shouts out in his Name.
And even though I walk through the Hood of death, I don't back down for you have my back.
They also included a portion of the 23rd Psalm, translated for the new audience. If this is any indication, it will be a very interesting version of the Episcopal prayer book to read.
The Lord is all that. I need for nothing. He allows me to chill.
He keeps me from being heated and allows me to breathe easy.
He guides my life so that I can represent and give shouts out in his Name.
And even though I walk through the Hood of death, I don't back down for you have my back.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Some Thoughts on a Fun Guy to Be Around
I was in the process of revising my resume this afternoon and got to the point where I was adding the information about having been an interviewer for, and contributor to, George Plimpton's oral biography of Truman Capote. Published in 1997 with the meaty title of Truman Capote: In Which Various Friends, Enemies, Acquaintances and Detractors Recall His Turbulent Career, it is a remarkable book, and the honor of being able to participate in even a small way is undoubtedly one of the highlights of my life.
Even now, 11 years after George's first call to me, I'm still amazed that he asked me to be a part of this project. I still remember vividly the day that I came home and found a surprising -- and very brief -- message on my voice mail: "Hello, it's George Plimpton calling. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience." I was absolutely floored and, as I said in introducing him at a dinner several years later, I immediately called my parents, grandparents, fiancee, friends, and high school English teacher to tell them the exciting news -- everyone, that is, except George to find out what he wanted in the first place!
One of the things that always impressed me most about George was that he was a true gentleman without even having to work at it, and he always took a genuine interest in whatever person he was talking to at any particular moment. I had invited him to attend my wedding in 1996, but he had to cancel at the last minute due to an unexpected conflict. To make it up to us, he invited me and my wife up to visit with him and his lovely wife Sarah in New York in July of the following year, and we had a great four-day visit to the Big Apple. Several years later, he flew down to Mobile, Alabama, to speak at the annual fundraising dinner for the Friends of the Mobile Library, and we were able to entertain him -- and be entertained!! -- with some good drinks and good conversation.
The last time I saw him was about a year-and-a-half before he passed away, when he was once again in Alabama to speak at the Alabama Writers' Symposium, in May, 2002. In addition to being his "Man Friday" during his visit, I was honored to be asked to introduce him at the formal dinner held on the first night of the conference. It was the first time I had heard him speak live, and he held the audience's attention from the first word to the last -- one of the most entertaining and hysterical talks I've heard, before or since.
The second night of the conference, the attention seemed to be wearing him out, and so my in-laws kindly invited him for dinner and drinks at their home. Over some delicious steaks and good whiskey, he regaled them -- and me and my wife -- with even more stories from his long career, and charmed my mother- and father-in-law to no end. Several of us also took time to watch the Boston Celtics playoff game that was on television that night, and I have to say that that period provided me with the one image of George that is guaranteed to stay with me for the rest of my life: holding his scotch perfectly steady in one hand while high-fiving us with the other following every great play by the Celtics.
I was deeply saddened when I got the news that he had passed away in September, 2003, feeling that I had lost someone who had become a true friend to my family and me. As such, it wasn't even a question as to whether I would attend his memorial service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in November of that year. There was a large and incredibly diverse crowd in attendance -- colleagues like Norman Mailer and Kurt Vonnegut, former staff members from the Paris Review, family, friends, and folks who simply just enjoyed the life he led and the writing he shared.
In my introduction at the dinner in Alabama, I tried -- unsuccessfully, I fear -- to summarize George's character. However, I don't think there's every any way that someone like me, who was so tremendously honored to have been involved in his world for just a brief time, could ever truly say how much his invitation and his kindness meant to me and my family.
"That’s George – it doesn’t matter if you’re Norman Mailer or Norman the mailman; you are treated as someone with something important to contribute. I will certainly continue to be impressed and amazed with all of his professional accomplishments. However, it is not George Plimpton the author, but George Plimpton the friend that I will always remember."
Even now, 11 years after George's first call to me, I'm still amazed that he asked me to be a part of this project. I still remember vividly the day that I came home and found a surprising -- and very brief -- message on my voice mail: "Hello, it's George Plimpton calling. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience." I was absolutely floored and, as I said in introducing him at a dinner several years later, I immediately called my parents, grandparents, fiancee, friends, and high school English teacher to tell them the exciting news -- everyone, that is, except George to find out what he wanted in the first place!
One of the things that always impressed me most about George was that he was a true gentleman without even having to work at it, and he always took a genuine interest in whatever person he was talking to at any particular moment. I had invited him to attend my wedding in 1996, but he had to cancel at the last minute due to an unexpected conflict. To make it up to us, he invited me and my wife up to visit with him and his lovely wife Sarah in New York in July of the following year, and we had a great four-day visit to the Big Apple. Several years later, he flew down to Mobile, Alabama, to speak at the annual fundraising dinner for the Friends of the Mobile Library, and we were able to entertain him -- and be entertained!! -- with some good drinks and good conversation.
The last time I saw him was about a year-and-a-half before he passed away, when he was once again in Alabama to speak at the Alabama Writers' Symposium, in May, 2002. In addition to being his "Man Friday" during his visit, I was honored to be asked to introduce him at the formal dinner held on the first night of the conference. It was the first time I had heard him speak live, and he held the audience's attention from the first word to the last -- one of the most entertaining and hysterical talks I've heard, before or since.
The second night of the conference, the attention seemed to be wearing him out, and so my in-laws kindly invited him for dinner and drinks at their home. Over some delicious steaks and good whiskey, he regaled them -- and me and my wife -- with even more stories from his long career, and charmed my mother- and father-in-law to no end. Several of us also took time to watch the Boston Celtics playoff game that was on television that night, and I have to say that that period provided me with the one image of George that is guaranteed to stay with me for the rest of my life: holding his scotch perfectly steady in one hand while high-fiving us with the other following every great play by the Celtics.
I was deeply saddened when I got the news that he had passed away in September, 2003, feeling that I had lost someone who had become a true friend to my family and me. As such, it wasn't even a question as to whether I would attend his memorial service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in November of that year. There was a large and incredibly diverse crowd in attendance -- colleagues like Norman Mailer and Kurt Vonnegut, former staff members from the Paris Review, family, friends, and folks who simply just enjoyed the life he led and the writing he shared.
In my introduction at the dinner in Alabama, I tried -- unsuccessfully, I fear -- to summarize George's character. However, I don't think there's every any way that someone like me, who was so tremendously honored to have been involved in his world for just a brief time, could ever truly say how much his invitation and his kindness meant to me and my family.
"That’s George – it doesn’t matter if you’re Norman Mailer or Norman the mailman; you are treated as someone with something important to contribute. I will certainly continue to be impressed and amazed with all of his professional accomplishments. However, it is not George Plimpton the author, but George Plimpton the friend that I will always remember."
Feeling Better About My Writing
I've tried quite hard for much of my life to make my writing the best it can possibly be -- and I've been fortunate that, for much of the last 10 years, I've had a job where I've been able to try and develop my skills. Honestly, I'm one that's never completely satisfied with the work I do, and I'm always striving to take it just one step further.
Today, however, I saw the news story that I've attached here -- and I can guarantee you I'll never be as hard on myself about my writing ever again!!
------------------------------------------------
Calif. man makes bad writing judges cringe
By Ron Harris, Associated Press Writer July 10, 2006
SAN FRANCISCO --A retired mechanical designer with a penchant for poor prose took a tired detective novel scene and made it even worse, earning him top honors in San Jose State University's annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for bad writing.
Jim Guigli of Carmichael submitted 64 entries into the contest. The judges were most impressed, or revolted perhaps, by his passage about a comely woman who walks into a detective's office.
"Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean," Guigli wrote.
"The judges were impressed by his appalling powers of invention," said Scott Rice, a professor in SJSU's Department of English and Comparative Literature. He has organized the bad writing contest since its inception in 1982.
Guigli will receive "a pittance" for his winning entry, a bit of cash he said he may put toward the purchase of a motor boat. His work for the contest represents a sampling of a career that never quite developed for him.
"At one time I thought I wanted to write to detective novels," Guigli told the Associated Press Monday. "I never got a good start on it."
His bad start was to be celebrated Tuesday, when the contest results were to be officially announced by Rice.
The contest is named for Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, whose 1830 novel "Paul Clifford" began with the oft-mocked, "It was a dark and stormy night."
Today, however, I saw the news story that I've attached here -- and I can guarantee you I'll never be as hard on myself about my writing ever again!!
------------------------------------------------
Calif. man makes bad writing judges cringe
By Ron Harris, Associated Press Writer July 10, 2006
SAN FRANCISCO --A retired mechanical designer with a penchant for poor prose took a tired detective novel scene and made it even worse, earning him top honors in San Jose State University's annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for bad writing.
Jim Guigli of Carmichael submitted 64 entries into the contest. The judges were most impressed, or revolted perhaps, by his passage about a comely woman who walks into a detective's office.
"Detective Bart Lasiter was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean," Guigli wrote.
"The judges were impressed by his appalling powers of invention," said Scott Rice, a professor in SJSU's Department of English and Comparative Literature. He has organized the bad writing contest since its inception in 1982.
Guigli will receive "a pittance" for his winning entry, a bit of cash he said he may put toward the purchase of a motor boat. His work for the contest represents a sampling of a career that never quite developed for him.
"At one time I thought I wanted to write to detective novels," Guigli told the Associated Press Monday. "I never got a good start on it."
His bad start was to be celebrated Tuesday, when the contest results were to be officially announced by Rice.
The contest is named for Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, whose 1830 novel "Paul Clifford" began with the oft-mocked, "It was a dark and stormy night."
Thursday, July 13, 2006
A Final Word....
After mentioning the Forrest Gump fishing vessel, I completely forgot to include a photo. I'm sure that anyone interested could buy it at an incredibly reduced rate.....
Back from Chincoteague
The trip to Chincoteague was exactly the type of relaxation that everyone in the family was seeking -- so much so that I even spent very little time reading (and thus was unable to get any further with Tillich or Taylor) and much more time lounging.Chincoteague is one of those great little vacation spots that seem to be becoming more rare -- a town that attracts tourists but isn't "touristy;" a coastal town that doesn't make you feel like you're at the beach; an old town that has worked to preserve its "oldness." And at just 3-1/2 hours from the metropolitan Washington area, it makes for an easy drive and a great spot for a quick getaway.
Sadly, the main attraction of the island -- the famous Chincoteague ponies, rumored to be descended from stallions that were marooned there following the wreck of a Spanish galleon several centuries ago -- were doing their best to stay hidden. A walk through the wildlife refuge only got us to within a half-mile or so, and I was worried that it would be a great disappointment to my little
girl, who had spent several days talking about seeing the "horsies." She didn't seem to mind too much, though, and had about as grand a time as any two-year-old could possibly have. She was even appointed an honorary refuge manager by the ladies working the front counter of the visitor center, and she was most definitely proud of her little badge.Throughout the island there were pockets of beautiful old homes and ancient cemeteries that seemed to just spring up out of nowhere -- and all of which were labeled by signs that announced what local church group or civic organization was in charge of their upkeep. And finding food was certainly no problem; you couldn't throw a stone anywhere without hitting a seafood restaurant. Some of the best ones were on the situated on the water, and it wasn't rare to find a good table out on the deck where you could enjoy a wonderful view, a nice sea breeze, and -- if the time of day was right -- a beautiful sunset. There were also large numbers of oyster and shrimp boats either tied up or plying the channel -- one of which was probably the Forrest Gumpiest-looking boat I have ever seen. The bartender at the restaurant adjacent to where this boat has been grounded said that he thinks it's been there for at least 25 years, and it has become a great attraction for artists, photographers, and the average curious person like myself.
Finally, and just for kicks, I tried to find the local Episcopal church to see what sort of presence they had in the community. I wasn't able to find a building, and it wasn't until we had been there several hours did we find out that any Episcopalians who might be about were invited to a eucharist in the chapel of the local funeral home!
All in all it was a wonderful trip, and one that we hope to make on a much more regular basis. I definitely felt greatly recharged when I came back -- which was good, since it was back to the grindstone of the job and the household chores!
Finally, and just for kicks, I tried to find the local Episcopal church to see what sort of presence they had in the community. I wasn't able to find a building, and it wasn't until we had been there several hours did we find out that any Episcopalians who might be about were invited to a eucharist in the chapel of the local funeral home!
All in all it was a wonderful trip, and one that we hope to make on a much more regular basis. I definitely felt greatly recharged when I came back -- which was good, since it was back to the grindstone of the job and the household chores!
Thursday, July 06, 2006
A Vacation from My Vacation
Just a very quick post in advance of our family trip to Chincoteague for a few days. We've timed it so that we won't be there in the midst of the chaos involved with the annual running of the ponies, but rather will have an opportunity for slow boat rides around the island, good seafood, good beer, and some very valuable family time.
It's also a vacation for me -- from the vacation I've already been on for a few days. Without a doubt, it's very frustrating to take 10 days off from work and spend the first four of them doing housework, just to catch up. I will never cease to be amazed with how much work like this piles up, and there's never anyone home to mess it up!
I'll be back in a few days with some thoughts on the trip, some pictures of the scenery, and some reflections on some sermons by Paul Tillich and Barbara Brown Taylor I am currently in the middle of reading.....
It's also a vacation for me -- from the vacation I've already been on for a few days. Without a doubt, it's very frustrating to take 10 days off from work and spend the first four of them doing housework, just to catch up. I will never cease to be amazed with how much work like this piles up, and there's never anyone home to mess it up!
I'll be back in a few days with some thoughts on the trip, some pictures of the scenery, and some reflections on some sermons by Paul Tillich and Barbara Brown Taylor I am currently in the middle of reading.....
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Saturday, Summer, and the Farmers' Market
Today was one of those days where the family collectively got a wild notion to get out and do some heavy-duty walking -- and that we did. We loaded up the little one in her stroller and headed off for the weekend farmers' market in downtown Falls Church. The weather was very nice (at least at the beginning of our walk; it was fairly oppressive by the time we returned) and we made quick work of the first leg from our house to The Falls Church.A stop in the shaded churchyard was most definitely in order, and so we took the opportunity to enjoy the nice breeze and some of the historic surroundings. The Falls Church, the Episcopal parish for the town, was designed by the cousin of Sir Christopher Wren and definitely matches the style of the old colonial-era buildings that are so prevalent in this area and in the corridor down along the coast to Williamsburg. It has a wonderful "old" feel to it and makes for a terrific place to rest and get recharged -- especially in the midst of a marathon walk. While my wife and I sat on an old bench and enjoyed the breeze, our little historian decided to get out and see what she could discover about the tenants of the churchyard.
My wife is much more enthusiastic about the whole farmers' market thing than I am, and so I took our daughter a few blocks further into town to the park to let her indulge in frequent trips down the slide and on the swingset. The air was alive with the electricity that all of the children whose parents had the same idea as us were generating -- the running around, the laughter, the excited chatter, and the happy shouts of, "Mommy! Daddy! Watch me!"
It's great to let kids get out and play, and part of me feels almost guilty when we have to remind ours that we do have a walk back to the house ahead of us. But the wonderful thing is that summer is far from over, and we can enjoy many more walks and many more trips to the park.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Review of Barbara Brown Taylor's "Leaving Church"
After just two days, I finished reading Barbara Brown Taylor's latest book, Leaving Church, and I was so amazed and overwhelmed by what it contained that I felt I should make an attempt at a review. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had read a review which included the statement that this book should be required reading for someone considering the ordained ministry. With the reading done, I can say that I agree wholeheartedly with that thought -- but I would take it a step further and say that it should be required reading for anyone who is in the midst of their own spiritual journey. Already, my copy is marked by many of those colored page markers, and I know that every subsequent reading is only going to provide me with the opportunity for more underlining, more highlighting, and more reflection.
The book appealed to me on many different levels, and unfortunately there wouldn't be any way that I could possibly try and cover them all -- it truthfully is something that is best discovered by taking the time to read it yourself. However, I do want to try and touch on some of the ideas and thoughts that jumped out at me. On one of the most basic levels, the story appealed to me because the church where she was rector -- Grace-Calvary Episcopal Church in Clarkesville, Georgia -- reminds me in so many ways of the small country church in Virginia I attended in my teen years. Several important components were there: a small and tightly-knit congregation -- in fact, more of a loving family than a mere congregation; a historic old building; and a rich history and presence in the community. More than that, though, Rev. Taylor's description of her time there -- from her first Sunday to her last -- displayed vividly that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit were all present and constantly moving through the church and the lives of those who attended.
As someone who has only recently been introduced to Rev. Taylor's work, I approached the book with an enthusiasm based solely on the positive comments that many others have made to me about her writing. However, nothing could have adequately prepared me for the powerful emotions I felt from the first page to the last. I could relate on such a deep level with so many of the emotions she experienced and feelings she felt, particularly as she completed seminary and came to the realization that the ordained ministry was for her. Reading about her experiences brought even more focus and clarity to the call I am feeling now: my desire to share my gifts and talents with a vibrant, growing, changing faith community; my desire to be a companion, a teacher, a friend, and a support for a congregation of people engaged in their own journeys, great and small; and my desire to come into a closer relationship with God, a deeper understanding of the life of Christ, and a greater awareness of the power and beauty of the spirit.
There are several sections where she discusses her great love of the outdoors -- remembering her childhood experiences and, later, relating the extreme pull to the property that she and her husband Ed bought outside Clarkesville and where they made their home. For three very important years of my early life, I lived on a 200-acre farm, and I cannot think of any time in my life where I was happier than having the freedom to explore the woods, wander the fields, and just enjoy the solitude and the sights and sounds of nature. I didn't realize it at the time, but it is impossible to get a full sense of God's presence in the world unless you are out in the world and experiencing every bit of it (sucking the marrow from life, as I believe the line from "Dead Poets' Society" went).
At its very core, though, the true power of the book -- aside from the power of the Spirit -- comes from the power of her words. Again, it would take a thorough reading to understand both the meaning and the context of what she has to say, but here are just a few examples of the beautiful, powerful, instructional, and loving words of Rev. Taylor:
"I did truly love helping people. It was not only chief among the reasons I had decided to seek ordination; it was also, I believed, why I had been born. To help lift a burden, to help light a path, to help heal a hurt, to help seek a truth -- these struck me as the sorts of things that human beings were created to do for one another...." (p. 47)
"I know that the Bible is a special kind of book, but I find it as seductive as any other. If I am not careful, I can begin to mistake the words on the page for the realities they describe. I can begin to love the dried ink marks on the page more than I love the encounters that gave rise to them." (p. 107)
"Those who became ordained were not presented with Moses or Miriam as our models, so that we could imagine ourselves as flawed human beings still willing to lead people through the wilderness. We were not presented with Peter or Mary Magdalene as our models, so that we could imagine ourselves as imperfect disciples still able to serve at our Lord's right hand. Instead, we were called to fill in for Jesus at the communion table, standing where he once stood and saying what he once said. We were called to preach his gospel and feed his sheep." (p. 150)
I really feel that this book is a love letter in the truest sense of the word: a love letter to her husband, Ed; a love letter to her parishes in Atlanta and Clarkesville; a love letter to her students at Piedmont College. Above all else, though, I think it is a love letter to God -- the God who was patient through her own faith journey and her joyful acceptance of the Episcopal Church, the God who nurtured her through seminary and the ordination process, the God who guided her through many years of active ministry, and the God who held her hand and put an arm around her shoulders as she came to grips with the difficult decision to leave the smaller church and live more fully in the larger, more universal church.
Buy this book, read this book, and share this book!! You will be blessed beyond measure, be taught by an extremely talented and wonderful writer and minister, and be moved to the point where you yourself feel like you have taken the journey with Rev. Taylor and have come out the other side having grown and become a stronger and more aware Christian -- both self-aware and aware of the power moving through the world.
The book appealed to me on many different levels, and unfortunately there wouldn't be any way that I could possibly try and cover them all -- it truthfully is something that is best discovered by taking the time to read it yourself. However, I do want to try and touch on some of the ideas and thoughts that jumped out at me. On one of the most basic levels, the story appealed to me because the church where she was rector -- Grace-Calvary Episcopal Church in Clarkesville, Georgia -- reminds me in so many ways of the small country church in Virginia I attended in my teen years. Several important components were there: a small and tightly-knit congregation -- in fact, more of a loving family than a mere congregation; a historic old building; and a rich history and presence in the community. More than that, though, Rev. Taylor's description of her time there -- from her first Sunday to her last -- displayed vividly that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit were all present and constantly moving through the church and the lives of those who attended.
As someone who has only recently been introduced to Rev. Taylor's work, I approached the book with an enthusiasm based solely on the positive comments that many others have made to me about her writing. However, nothing could have adequately prepared me for the powerful emotions I felt from the first page to the last. I could relate on such a deep level with so many of the emotions she experienced and feelings she felt, particularly as she completed seminary and came to the realization that the ordained ministry was for her. Reading about her experiences brought even more focus and clarity to the call I am feeling now: my desire to share my gifts and talents with a vibrant, growing, changing faith community; my desire to be a companion, a teacher, a friend, and a support for a congregation of people engaged in their own journeys, great and small; and my desire to come into a closer relationship with God, a deeper understanding of the life of Christ, and a greater awareness of the power and beauty of the spirit.
There are several sections where she discusses her great love of the outdoors -- remembering her childhood experiences and, later, relating the extreme pull to the property that she and her husband Ed bought outside Clarkesville and where they made their home. For three very important years of my early life, I lived on a 200-acre farm, and I cannot think of any time in my life where I was happier than having the freedom to explore the woods, wander the fields, and just enjoy the solitude and the sights and sounds of nature. I didn't realize it at the time, but it is impossible to get a full sense of God's presence in the world unless you are out in the world and experiencing every bit of it (sucking the marrow from life, as I believe the line from "Dead Poets' Society" went).
At its very core, though, the true power of the book -- aside from the power of the Spirit -- comes from the power of her words. Again, it would take a thorough reading to understand both the meaning and the context of what she has to say, but here are just a few examples of the beautiful, powerful, instructional, and loving words of Rev. Taylor:
"I did truly love helping people. It was not only chief among the reasons I had decided to seek ordination; it was also, I believed, why I had been born. To help lift a burden, to help light a path, to help heal a hurt, to help seek a truth -- these struck me as the sorts of things that human beings were created to do for one another...." (p. 47)
"I know that the Bible is a special kind of book, but I find it as seductive as any other. If I am not careful, I can begin to mistake the words on the page for the realities they describe. I can begin to love the dried ink marks on the page more than I love the encounters that gave rise to them." (p. 107)
"Those who became ordained were not presented with Moses or Miriam as our models, so that we could imagine ourselves as flawed human beings still willing to lead people through the wilderness. We were not presented with Peter or Mary Magdalene as our models, so that we could imagine ourselves as imperfect disciples still able to serve at our Lord's right hand. Instead, we were called to fill in for Jesus at the communion table, standing where he once stood and saying what he once said. We were called to preach his gospel and feed his sheep." (p. 150)
I really feel that this book is a love letter in the truest sense of the word: a love letter to her husband, Ed; a love letter to her parishes in Atlanta and Clarkesville; a love letter to her students at Piedmont College. Above all else, though, I think it is a love letter to God -- the God who was patient through her own faith journey and her joyful acceptance of the Episcopal Church, the God who nurtured her through seminary and the ordination process, the God who guided her through many years of active ministry, and the God who held her hand and put an arm around her shoulders as she came to grips with the difficult decision to leave the smaller church and live more fully in the larger, more universal church.
Buy this book, read this book, and share this book!! You will be blessed beyond measure, be taught by an extremely talented and wonderful writer and minister, and be moved to the point where you yourself feel like you have taken the journey with Rev. Taylor and have come out the other side having grown and become a stronger and more aware Christian -- both self-aware and aware of the power moving through the world.
Friday, June 23, 2006
A post-Father's Day Gift
I got a late Father's Day gift yesterday when my wife and I finally got confirmation that little one number 2 is on its way! Everything with the sonogram looked good, and we were even amazed to be able to see the little heart beating away! My daughter still doesn't quite know what to make of everything -- in fact, when I had her look at the monitor to watch the sonogram and asked her what she saw, she replied, "Dinosaur!" and then looked at me, held her hands up like little claws, and growled.
There's no doubt in my mind that she'll make a great big sister to our new son or daughter, and it will be so much fun watching her grow and help care for someone even smaller than her. Naturally, since she's been an only child for nearly three years, there will undoubtedly be some jealousy issues that she will have to overcome -- but we're going to try really hard to make sure she knows that she's loved just as much as she always was, and even more so with the love that she'll get from her sibling.
I also think this is going to be a great challenge for us in the way we handle this. I think my wife and I had finally just gotten a handle on how to raise one child, and we were doing pretty well with that. Now, of course, we'll have to try and double what we've learned (and what we still don't know) for two kids. Coming from a family of four kids, it's a safe bet that my mother and father will be called on quite a bit for advice!
------------------------------
As John McLaughlin would say, "Issue Two!" As someone who is actively going through the discernment process right now, I am always looking for good books by and about people who have entered the ministry and who have stories and lessons to share about their own experiences. While perusing the Episcopal Bookstore website, I saw that Barbara Brown Taylor has a new book out -- Leaving Church. It's gotten some remarkable reviews, and is recommended as something that anyone considering the priesthood should consider reading.
I've picked up a copy and have started reading it, and I already can say that I would recommend it to anyone and everyone interested in a good, meaningful religious memoir. Not being too familiar with her writing, I didn't know what to expect. But if the remainder of the book is a tenth as good as the opening, then it will be a remarkable book indeed. And for those who may not know it, she was named one of the twelve most outstanding preachers in the world today by Baylor University. I can see why!
There's no doubt in my mind that she'll make a great big sister to our new son or daughter, and it will be so much fun watching her grow and help care for someone even smaller than her. Naturally, since she's been an only child for nearly three years, there will undoubtedly be some jealousy issues that she will have to overcome -- but we're going to try really hard to make sure she knows that she's loved just as much as she always was, and even more so with the love that she'll get from her sibling.
I also think this is going to be a great challenge for us in the way we handle this. I think my wife and I had finally just gotten a handle on how to raise one child, and we were doing pretty well with that. Now, of course, we'll have to try and double what we've learned (and what we still don't know) for two kids. Coming from a family of four kids, it's a safe bet that my mother and father will be called on quite a bit for advice!
------------------------------
As John McLaughlin would say, "Issue Two!" As someone who is actively going through the discernment process right now, I am always looking for good books by and about people who have entered the ministry and who have stories and lessons to share about their own experiences. While perusing the Episcopal Bookstore website, I saw that Barbara Brown Taylor has a new book out -- Leaving Church. It's gotten some remarkable reviews, and is recommended as something that anyone considering the priesthood should consider reading.
I've picked up a copy and have started reading it, and I already can say that I would recommend it to anyone and everyone interested in a good, meaningful religious memoir. Not being too familiar with her writing, I didn't know what to expect. But if the remainder of the book is a tenth as good as the opening, then it will be a remarkable book indeed. And for those who may not know it, she was named one of the twelve most outstanding preachers in the world today by Baylor University. I can see why!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)