Looking for Work

Several years ago, I had major surgery followed by several months convalescence. Since I was close to retirement, I decided to go ahead and do so. Now, I find myself just barely making it financially and am casting about for employment. The intensity of the job search has increased over the past three months to a fever pitch, matched only by my anxiety over not having found anything. When I think of some entrepreneurial income generators, I am buffaloed by not having the few hundred dollars to do the start up. My goals are small and it all seems doable, but that is obviously not the case. I know that I am starting to panic, at least internally. Where is my trust in God? Why can't I beleve what He so clearly states in scripture. I'm to take no thought for the morrow, so tomorrow is here and nothing has changed. What gives? My head is full of "what ifs", what if my car breaks down?, what if I need this or that?, you can really just fill in the blank after "what if". My Calvinistic friends would say God is trying to teach me something. Maybe, but it sure isn't living cheaply, I'm an expert in that. I haven't bought anything but thrift shop clothes in 15 years, and most everything I have was had by someone before. I think the "God is teaching you..." misses the point. I think the point is me trying to shrink god down into something manageable. I often really want Him to be a genie, granting my wishes without hesitation. And there's something of a challenge present also. I want God to be an equal player in some sort of social contract. The hateful truth is I'm selfish, I want what I want and I want it now. I want God to become smaller and more manageable, more sensible, and ultimatly more controllable. And yet, I don't, do I. I say that God is all powerful, but hate the fact that he is. I say that he is all knowing and curse his lack of sharing that knowledge in a way I understand. In the end, I've got to remember with Luther, that I am baptized. I must take what he says at face value and not try to read my concerns into it. Some days it is such a struggle to do that. Satan's grinning.

Lauds

For some time now I have joining several others at 7:10 in Lauds, the first of the daily prayers offices. This is also known as Morning Prayer and Matins. Most Lutherans call the first prayer office Matins, but for some reason the ancient term Lauds appeals to me. It is called Lauds because is it a laudatory liturgy of praise in the early morning light. There is a great discussion of this at: http://www.2ds.ca/Prayer/hours.html It is praise to God for the the light of creation and for Christ, the Light of the World. The service consists of prayers, canticles, scripture readings, psalms, and often a reading from one of the Patristic fathers or Luther, following the order in the Lutheran Brotherhood Book of Prayer. Although the Brotherhood Book of Prayer includes many Gregorian chant tunes for the Psalms, the Antiphons, the Canticles, in fact you could chant the entire service as was done in past centuries,we do not. We simply responsively read these. It takes us a little over a month to get through the Psalms, about five a day. For some reason unknown to me, we have rarely been graced with female presence, so it all feels very monastic. That being said, it is a wonderful way to begin the day and a discipline I would recommend to anyone.

Home At Last

The picture above is from our three hour observance of Good Friday, Tre Or. The pastor and two assistants lie prostate before the stripped alter. The crucifix has been lowered down and will soon leave the sanctuary. This is an ancient ritual, one that is powerful, humbling, thought provoking, and reminds me why I love my church so much.

I grew up in this town, actually I grew up in church, not this one, but St. Paul's. It is the Lutheran mother church of Fort Wayne and one of the charter churches of the synod. St. Paul's is a huge edifice in the city's downtown. It's grade school is the oldest continually operating grade school in the state. I was there six days a week from age four to twelve. Then, entering Concordia Lutheran High School, I would only be around St. Paul's two or three days a week. So much heritage for a young man to take for granted. During my high school years, I visited another Lutheran church, Redeemer, largely because I was dating the current pastor's daughter. It was eye opening, nothing like staid St. Paul's. They had kneelers, people crossed themselves and genuflected. It was not even part of the Indiana District of LCMS, but the non-geographical English District. It's pastor was a tennis playing liberal who went on Freedom Marches. I loved everything about it, it just felt right, but I had no idea why.

I left Fort Wayne in 1965, not to return for forty-five years, that was last year. Somehow along the way, I started to put legs under the first feelings I had at Redeemer many years ago. I discovered my love for things liturgical. I came to understand the Bride of Christ as all the Saints who had ever lived. When I lifted my heart up unto the Lord, I was joining those earliest of Christians in the Sursum Corda bearing witness with them and those around me in worshipping our Lord, Jesus, the Christ.

But as I got deeper and deeper into this, others around me didn't share my enthusiams. I was on the West Coast by now where Lutherans are somewhat of a novelty. I was a novelty among them: I crossed myself, I talked about the historical practices of the Christian Church, I studied St. Jerome, I read the Didache and I generated incredible eye-rolling. But, I would insist, Luther didn't want to abolish the Mass, only reform it. And, when I read more of Luther, he only seemed, as my critics would say, "sehr Katholische". Pastor's counseled me that worship style wasn't that important, just adiophera. I kept thinking that your physical behaviors also informed what you believed. That if your worship was casual wasn't your theology also. I even met a Lutheran pastor who talked about making a decision for Christ.

Fast forward to June, 2010: I had returned to Fort Wayne almost forty-five years to the day when I had left. I began the search for a church. Of course, first I returned to St. Paul's, little had changed, but it was haunted for me. Where were the Knoblauch's, the Schaak's, the Schoenherr's, and other families from my youth. Everything was the same, but nothing was the same. Then I thought, let's check out Redeemer and I did. I feel in love. It observed the historic practices of the church, it was full of seminarians enthusiastically exigeting scripture, there were families with small children, it had a great young pastor, and an extremely talented kantor; it was everything I had been looking for. So, as Thoreau observed, "If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them." My castle now had a real foundation.

In truth, this has been a long, around the barn way of saying, "It's good to be home."

Domenica in Palmis

It's Palm Sunday, not only here but around the world, this year the Orthodox are celebrating on the same day as the Western Church. Here at the epicenter of the Rudisillian Empire, Redeemer Lutheran Church, we received our palms in the narthex, listened to the readings, and then, following a phalanx of acolytes, crucifirs, and officiants processed into the sanctuary. We were remembering our Lord's entry into Jerusalem the Sunday of Passover Week. He came gently, riding the colt of a donkey, a symbol of peace, yet the crowds were hoping for a great hero to deliver them from the yoke of Imperial Rome. Their cries were "Hosanna", "save me", not from sin, but oppression. All too often, I am at that very same place. I want a hero to save me, to make everything in my life wonderful, to somehow cause me to sin no more. What I get instead through no effort on my part is His promise that I am redeemed, that my sins are forgiven, that I will join Him in eternal life in Heaven. In spite of myself, He has saved me.

Judica Sunday

This mornning we celebrated Judica Sunday, all the crucifixes and crosses were vieled, but with a sheer material, so you could get a shadowy sense of the covered. In Corinthians 13:12, St. Paul wrote, "For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." Judica reminds me that, in truth, I can hardly bear to look at the crucifix, to be reminded of my Lord's suffereing for me. I don't deserve it, but yet it has been freely given. From the very beginnings in the garden when God fashioned a covering for Adam and Eve's nakedness, we learn there is no redemption without scrifice, but this is such a sacrifice. It makes no sense to my sinful mind. I must constantly remind myself to heed Luther's advice and take God at his word. This is very hard sometimes and, once again, I am more than blessed to have been placed in a congregation where I can receive the Lord's Body and Blood seven days a week. Soli Deo Gloria.

In Praise of my Kantor

Back home from our celebration of Laetare and I realized I have never said a word about our wonderful Kantor, The Reverend Dr. Daniel Reuning. He is a wonderful musician, Bach scholar, leader of The Bach Collegium, and guardian of the faith. In that later role this morning, he changed a word in the hymn "Jesus, Priceless Treasure" to express proper Lutheran theology. The line in the fourth stanza read "Jesus is my pleasure/Jesus is my choice". Lutherans will be among the first to tell you that God does the choosing, so he simply changed the line to "Jesus is my joy". And so He is, as is this church, which nurtures me in so many ways. Additionally, "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" was our prelude this morning. I am a happy man.

Tomorrow is Laetare Sunday, the last Sunday in Lent. "Rejoice, oh Jerusalem...rejoice with joy!" The purple vestments and paraments have been replaced with rose as we look ahead to glorious Easter. I will welcome it. I battle with depression and have been going through a rough patch. It actually began when I had my kidney removed and subsequently retired. I don't deal with idleness and tend to become agoraphobic, not even getting to church. Ouch! The last few days though, God has blessed me more than usual and I have been able to make the morning Eucharist services and Thursday evening's Mass. All wonderful. God has blessed me richly by bringing me to Redeemer, it is my new family. Father Petersen and the rest of the Rudisillians have adopted and accepted me, warts and all. We are a rag tag bunch: gun toting conservatives, radical homeschoolers, Bach scholars, seminarians, converted Jews, all coming together in our love for the Lord and of worship. And worship we do, seven days a week! Our services are reverant, glorious, and historically Lutheran, I am thrilled. It is what I have been looking for a long, long time. I so tired of having to explain myself and defend my beliefs in the Theology of the Cross. So, take a short break from Lent and REJOICE JERUSALEM!

Advent will soon be upon us and coming up is the last Sunday in the church year. Advent is a time of preparation, to get myself ready once again for the coming of our Lord to earth as a helpless baby. Each year brings new depth to this great remembering of that world changing event. Even though is a penitential season, as church, we are not fasting. Instead we are feasting and having fellowship on Thursday evenings. I am somewhat sad that we will stop celebrating Matins for a period, but thrilled that throughout Advent, we will have daily Eucharist services. It is daily confirmed that I made the right choice in joining Redeemer. I wish that I could close on this house so that I could buy furniture and really celebrate Christmas in the way my parents taught me. Next year for sure.

Home At Last

After forty-five years, I think I'm finally (back) where I belong. I took so much for granted growing up that I thought after seventeen years I was ready for the world away from my church cocoon. I was very wrong, not prepared at all and maybe I am one of those people who should never stray too far away from the influence of my church. I became convinced some time ago that I should have gone to a Lutheran college. Anyway, over the past years I have been edging back to where I started and it feels good.
I ran across a letter I started a year or so ago and think I should post it:
This is a plea to all the liturgical churches: stop hiding your light. Stop trying to be the mega-church around the corner. Recognize your rightful place within the bride of Christ. I am both sickened and saddened by the direction of modern Christianity. Its almost exclusive focus is on the self, the individual. It's in the sappy music. It's in the pap filled Christian book store around the corner. It's in thousands of Christian pulpits. And, it's driving me crazy. Not only have these churches co-opted the the historical term "evangelical", they have convinced the world that their often heretical brand of Christianity is the main stream of Christianity. This self-help style of Christianity is not only unbiblical, but often no Christianity at all.
I know, I know...other than that, how do you feel?

New Church

It's been since Easter that I've written anything to the blog and so much has happened that I should have posted. I left Oregon on a wild drive to Indiana that included almost running out of gas sixty miles from anywhere and a breakdown in Wyoming. My oldest son, Jeremy, came out to Oregon and drove back with me. So now I am in Fort Wayne, the city of my birth and first seventeen years. But it is forty-five years later and things have changed. I am in the house that I am buying, the closing keeps getting held up, so I am paying rent until the close. In the meantime, I have been holding off buying furniture, so the house is largely empty. On the other hand, it's warm and dry.
After some church shopping, I have joined Redeemer Lutheran, part of the English District of the Missouri Synod of the Lutheran Church. It is a church I have been looking for for some time. I have long felt the LCMS was a liturgical jewel and couldn't figure out why they weren't touting that instead of chasing the church growth movement. Redeemer is a church that is all about liturgical worship in the Lutheran tradition. I have know about it for since I was in high school with "Liz" Lindemann, daughter Redeemer's pastor at that time. The current pastor, Rev. David Peterson is committed to Lutheran worship in it's finest form. I have started going to Morning Prayer daily at 7:10, which I assume we'll keep up until Advent, when we start having daily Eucharist at that time. I feel very blessed to be part of a church community that so honors the Lutheran tradition.
I haven't really made any friends, yet, but I think that is largely my fault. I tend to isolate, instead of joining groups of folk with similar interests. With God's help, I can change all that.

Post Easter

The week after Easter, is always a time for me to catch my breath. Lent builds to a climax, a nadir of emotions on Good Friday followed by the high of Easter's joyous celebrations. It's like the catharsis in Arisotle's definition of a good play. Anyway, I am glad to sit back for a second and have time for a less intensive look at the past weeks.
My relocation plans are on track. The inspector I hired found little wrong with the property, although the non-working doorbell was almost a deal breaker. The few small items he found, the seller has agreed to repair. Now, I'm trying to be in contact with the lender so I have no cash surprises at closing. I may have found a buyer for my fifth wheel. I had hoped to be able to give it away, but I think it would be financially imprudent to do so. Realism once again rears its ugly head.
For the first time in 62 years, I am starting to worry about my health. Most would say its about time. I finally realized that I want to enjoy my new home and the many activities available to me. In many ways, I have been in the desert and returning to Fort Wayne will be a rich oasis. Oh, I realize, it's not all that, but compared to where I've been the last fifteen years it will be astonishing. Oregon is amazingly beautiful, but so is the Midwest in a different way. Honestly, I have never really felt at home here. Maybe I won't feel at ease there either, but I must try. I know it will be closer to the way I've lived for most of my life and the community religious atmosphere will be more comfortable than here. There is both a large Lutheran and Catholic presence here, so worshiping in the historic liturgical tradition is not regarded as unusual. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that schools, government and many businesses still observed the practice of closing on Good Friday at noon and most churches held services at noon, many with ceremonies extending till three p.m.. I am now praying daily for both wisdom in my health and the successful outcome of my relocation plans.

Holy Week, 2010

He is risen! He is risen, indeed! The ancient words announcing the empty tomb. Today it is Easter. Our church was overflowing. Hallelujah!
Holy Week was a long one with a bad cold in the early part of the week. Maundy Thursday, my church did a Seder meal and I fixed lamb, roast vegetables, and the charoset for thirty people. This was followed by our Maundy Thursday service. Pastor had asked me to come up with a liturgy for the service and he surprised me by deciding to use it, so had to do a lot of reading that I didn't feel up to. I will hate to leave this little church in Sutherlin, it is full of dear brothers and sisters in Christ.
I will be moving back to the city of my birth and early years, Fort Wayne. Although, I've been planning it for a while, it seems like it is happening all too quickly. It will be interesting to be back in the land of Lutherans and Catholics, both of every stripe. Fort Wayne, as a community still observes Good Friday closings and most churches had services from noon to three. Yesterday, I had a minor anxiety attack about the upcoming house buy and move. Why can I never seem to accept that it is all in God's hands? I have so many doubts.
Learned yesterday of a new oratorio which sounded very interesting. It probes the more human side of Mary, especially. We don't know much about her, but if one thinks about it, even if she freely acknowledged Jesus as God's son, she must have wrestled with her anger over his crucifixtion. "Why my son"? Because He was her son, too. I have never thought about this too much, but how she must have struggled. She must have been proud to know that He was the Chosen One, but what a price for a mother. And though Jesus knew what He must do, to see His mother in anguish, must have been especially horrible.

I threatened to put up my homily for the next to last Wednesday in Lent, so here goes.
In the words of St. Paul, "Grace, mercy and peace be unto you in the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen
Tonight we are at the end of our slow and solemn walk to a most sacred time in the history of the world, the awful fulfillment of God's promise of salvation. This walk started back in the garden when Adam and Eve brought sin and death into the world. He promised to send a Messiah that would crush the serpent's head and immediately sacrifices an animal, maybe a lamb, for the skins that would cover Adam and Eve, a covering for their sin. So we learn early on that there is no redemption without sacrifice. We see this throughout the Old Testament with Abraham and Isaac, with the Passover miracle in Egypt that we remember next week, and now we are at the point of God's ultimate sacrifice for our redemption, that of his only son, Jesus, the Christ.
The priests and their mob have spoken, "We have no king but Caesar," and Pilate, anxious to maintain order sends Jesus to be crucified. Jesus is stripped of the mocking robe, dressed in his clothes and is marched off to be crucified. As was the common practice, He is forced to carry the heavy crossbeam that soon he will be viciously nailed to. He is pushed through the angry crowd, many of which had hailed Him with joyful hosannas only a few days earlier. We humans are pretty fickle, like Peter praising Him one day, denying the next. Yet, Jesus continues in His love for us, going forward in the ultimate act of love and sacrifice and so pushes forward to the place of his death.
The common location for crucifixions in Jerusalem was outside the city, known as Golgotha, the Skull. In their efforts in maintain order in the far flung empire the Romans punished violently and obviously. They wanted those punished to be seen and to be examples, so a hill by a road was a perfect location. The cross, if you will, a gory signpost advertising the power of Rome. Often these signposts were labeled, on Jesus' cross would be nailed a multilingual placard reading "The King of the Jews". Passersby could read this title in Aramaic, Greek, or Latin. Was this part of God's plan? I think so. Even at this point of despair, God used Pilate to proclaim the truth to any who would see: this truly was the king of the Jews, their long awaited Christ, if, as Jesus often said, they had eyes to see. The Jewish priests were not happy, though and protested to Pilate. His answer, a rather childish, "What I have written, I have written." And so, this minor Roman official, perhaps the most famous judge in history, passes from the scene, otherwise hardly a footnote in the history of man.
The gospels tell us that Jesus stumbled, unable to carry the beam upon which he would spend his last moments as a man. Is it any wonder? After a long night of prayer, and beatings and humiliation, his body gave out. The ever efficient Romans grabbed a passerby, a Simon, not even from Jerusalem, probably in town for the Passover, to carry the grisly crosspiece up the hill to the killing place. We don't know if this Simon knew anything about Jesus. I doubt it, I think his choice was do it or face immediate Roman punishment. It's amazing what you can do with a sword at your throat. I like to think I would have pushed through the angry mob and offered to help our Lord, to give Him some little honor in His last moments, but, honestly, I don't think so. I think I probably would have been hiding out with the other disciples, scared, thinking all is lost, my Lord is doomed.
The grisly parade continued...John spares us the details and simply notes that he was crucified, meaning he was affixed to the cross until His death. History has given us the details of this terrible punishment. St. John does mention that the soldiers divided up his clothing. It was the custom, probably considered a benefit of these soldiers' detail. When they came to his undergarment and found it to be seamless, rather than rip it up they drew lots to see who would get this prize. John reminds us that this fulfills an ancient prophecy from the 22nd Psalm, "They divided my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots." Jewish readers would also be reminded of the seamless garments that God commanded the high priest to wear. Jesus is our high priest, offering this one last living sacrifice, Himself, for our salvation.
We don't know all who were there at the killing ground that day, but John tells us that he was there with Mary, Jesus' mother and the other two Marys. These few, for sure, stayed with Him through his final hours. But what of those others, His disciples, the crowds , that followed him and hung on Jesus' every word, where were they? I know that I much as I need to get close to the cross, I also want to turn away in shame, it should be me up there. It should be my sins being punished. Yet, Jesus, this spotless, sinless lamb is hanging there instead of me. I don't know what to think, I am ashamed, I am in awe, I am once again reminded of my helpless humanity in the face of God's plan for both our judgment and our redemption. Even at this point, Jesus last moments, he reaches out commanding John to take care of his mother, Mary; she to adopt John as her son, and so establishes a caring Christian community on earth, carrying out His great commandment to love one another. It's kind of where were at today, struggling to love one another. It's hard because we're not that attractive, we've got a lot of warts and rough spots, we're mostly pretty selfish people, not really wanting to put ourselves out too much, yet it is our sacred obligation to love one another as He has loved us. Look around you, here, in your family, in community, in our nation, the truth is only through Jesus can we truly love one another.
John tells us that then He accepted a drink and declared, "It is finished."
Fortunately, for us, we know the rest of the story, but did John and Mary, did the rest of the disciples, the many other followers who watched on that dark Jerusalem afternoon? They must have been devastated. We know that in only a few days, Jesus would reveal himself as the Risen Lord having crushed satin once and for all. Once and for all, redeeming those who believe in Him, defeating death and restoring God's plan for our eternal life. It's a full circle, the new Adam takes us back to the garden, home to paradise, home to eternal life with God.
Tonight brings us to the end of this horrible and wonderful story from Gethsemane to Golgotha and fortunately, we are right where we belong: at the foot of the cross. Thank God! Amen.
Now, as we ponder Jesus last moments on the cross, may God's peace which exceeds all understanding keep our hearts and minds on Jesus, the Christ, our Savior and Messiah Amen

A Time For Change

What a fickle fellow I am ! In a few short months, I have altered my future plans in a significant way. I woke up one day thinking, "this town doesn't even have a dry cleaners". Now, I don't even own anything that currently needs dry cleaning, but it became a symbol of the immense lack of goods and services in my locality. This then morphed into "what am I doing here"? My late sister's two sons and their families live here, but, honestly, I seldom see them. After my typical several days of brooding, I actually made a map of people in my life and it turned out to be a narrow strip running from Chicago to the Atlantic. I started investigating cities with the following criteria in mind: it must have a decent college or university, it must have decent public transport, and, of course, it must have a dry cleaners. After several weeks of looking, lo and behold, my choice became the place of my birth, Fort Wayne, Indiana. So, here I sit, closing in on a house and planning a move. My financial situation has improved and am now recieving both a pension and Social Security. Although I'm not, I feel quite rich!

In the midst of planning my move, I just put together a liturgy for Maundy Thursday and am halfway through a sermon for our last Wednesday night Lenten services. Since our pastor is less than full time, Wednesday services therefore are entirely run by the laity. I have spent much time in prayer and contemplation over this, which is good.

The liturgy class which started out trying to answer the question, "does liturgy shape doctrine or does doctrine shape liturgy?" I'm not sure we ever got a satisfactory answer, my gut feeling is both with a little more emphasis on the former, i.e. if Lutherans start to have services resembling the modern neo-evangelical mega-churches, it is my belief that they will eventually start to think like them. I find my self telling Lutherans who got on the Rick Warren bandwagon, "my problem isn't lack of purpose, my problem is sin". Is that a bit smug, I suppose so, but it is my gut. Tomorrow I will post my "sermon".

It's About Time

It has been so long since I posted anything and why is that? Some sloth, some naval gazing, some musing on the future; all have managed to impede my being a little more faithful. Which of course becomes a bad pun on the blog title. Oh, well. I have finally decided to stay in the area for the next several years. I want to do a picture book on the local Umpqua Valley Wineries. They are very up and coming, deserving my best. I am planning to get a medium format film camera to assist in that endeavour. There are currently twenty-some wineries and more opening every year. The variety of wines is large, the climate is excellent, the soil is superb; in my opinion: the next Napa Valley.

Then, I would like to go to Europe for a year or two. I would probably go to a language school in Prague, Czech Republic, then stay and teach English for a year or two. Czechoslovakia is so beautiful. Largely untouched by the Second World War, many cities are still, at least in city center, very medieval. Another book? Mentioning teaching, I am reminded that I will be teaching a class on Liturgy beginning October 10. This is something I have been studying off and on for years, so I am probably over prepared and must strive to not be too pedantic.

Dave and Sabra Horn swept into our church family this weekend like a welcome rain on a summer's day. We are an older congregation and often fairly set in our ways. I have joked that I am the acolyte because, at sixty-two, I am the youngest. That is only a slight exaggeration. They were a revitalizing change. In some ways, Rev. Horn is our Pastor's protogee, and he was very much the proud parent. The Horns are traveling Lutheran missionaries and contemporary Christian musicians. His voice and style remind me of John Michael Talbot. Talbot is part of the Church of Rome, but I could easily live and work at Little Portion Hermitage. Magically, I seemed to know one of their songs, "No Angels," but why? Like deja vu all over again. (I just revisited his site and now know why I knew the song. I had listened to it about a month ago while researching him. It obviously made a deep impression, so much for deja vu.) I very much liked both of them, they have sweet spirits and much love for the Lord. I, too, love Jesus, but it never feels as if I manifest it very well or obviously. I often wonder if I am just playing church. I still feel called to ministry, but am such a bad example for others and so won't make that commitment. I still live in fear someone will discover the real me and, yet, I'm not even sure what that is. Sixty-two years old and still living in Catcher in the Rye. How ridiculous is that?

Time Has Passed

Wow! Three months since I last posted, the depression has long since lifted, I started smoking again, and I'm still broke. I was reminded of a pension I will be able to get soon, so relief is on the way. I have started to make plans for the future again. Naturally, all involve spending money. I am working some at the RV Park, which is taking up some time and knocking money off my rent. Enough of the blathering and on with the ranting.

I am very bothered by both the incivility and gullibility I am encountering. All our leaders are being subjected to demonetization, and as I think about it this goes back several years. Actually, when I think about elections and political cartoons of the 19Th century, it's absolutely old news. But, it is distressing. the gullibility manifests itself when we often rely on the Internet as a reliable source. Not that it often isn't reliable, but it is also a terrific disinformation and rumor platform. Yesterday, I was told that our current President is a Marxist, but then I was also told that his predecessor was a right wing fanatic. It is amazing that I live so serenely in a society with such violent political swings. This is told with much concern about end times. Unfortunately, I am much more inclined to think about current times and chalk up end times as an upcoming miracle. I should never allow myself to get sucked into these discussions, I just get upset and end up feeling guilty that I'm not quite Christian enough. Silly? Yes, but something to which I am susceptible.

Depression, Thy Name is Paul

There, I've said it, I am depressed, really bummed, in a state of ennui, blue, and wallowing in good old general all around self loathing. That tape that highlights all the bad decisions and lowlights of my life is running with Imax clarity. I can't even smoke. I quit several weeks ago and am now an ex-smoker with a lot of time on his hands and no cigarettes in them. I don't even want one that bad, it would just be something to do. Not that I don't have a million things I could be doing. This trailer that I huddle in is a disaster, but probably reflects my mental state: cluttered, unkept, full of bugs. there are so many jobs that I could do, but am not qualified for...the tape starts again.

I apply for a job which I know that I could do, but I don't have a place on their poorly designed form to tell them I could do the job. Truthfully, it's not really work, but lack of money. I have plenty of interests, but it's hard to do much with less than a dollar to your name, and did I mention the bugs:

The notorious box elder bugs. Right now they are out and about in a shamless buggy orgy, breeding like rabbits, if rabbits had wings and six legs. Far too many have managed to be inside and so I have become a bug transporter, often catching them and tossing the little guy out the door. I will admit to the occasional less than Ghandi/Schweitzer like grab and crush, but I have given many a second chance...more than they deserve

Death in the Family

My sister died Friday, about 11:25 am. This was not unexpected, as she has been closer to death than most of us for some time,...and I don't know how I feel about it. I'm pleased that she will no longer be suffering, the bed confinement alone must have been agony. Plus there was very real physical pain, although she had many and powerful pain relievers...they helped make her loopy. The last time I talked with her, reality was more of a concept than what is usually agreed upon, but she knew I was there and peace was made.

Sometimes I wonder if I can make deep connects with anybody, I've felt so alone for such a very long time. I don't chase people away, at least not overtly, but I must wall them out. Otherwise why am I so devoid of feeling. Or the feelings that I do have seem to be only for me. I actually told someone today, "now I'm a real orphan, no parents and no siblings." How self-centered is that!

I continue to wonder about the ministery. I really don't seem to have a zeal for sharing the gospel. I love learning the doctrines, the theology, the history. I did very much enjoy leading the two Lenten services and felt comfortable doing so. I enjoy making the sick calls with Pastor Rehley. At this point, I have only said that I am willing if He wants me to serve in this capacity. So I don't really know what's next.

Pagan Easter

I ran across this picture and had to use it, since the White House egg thing is upon us. This was taken in 1958, so these folks are almost as old as I am.

Pax

Pax

Christos Anesti! / Aleithos Anesti!

HE IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN INDEED!

Glorious day it is, as I remember the resurrection of Jesus. This is the day the Western Church has chosen to celebrate as Easter. The first Sunday following the first full moon after the vernal equinox. I'll have to find out how the Orthodox Church determines it, then I'll be complete. I am guilty of wanting to keep Jesus on the cross, since God is revealed so fully there, but that's only part of it. From this point on Jesus is the the revealed Christ to all who encounter Him. The old C. S. Lewis line, "either He is who He says He is or the greatest charlatan of all times." How must it have been for His followers. Sure they knew He was a great teacher and healer, and they thought Him the Messiah. But He was killed, decisively so. Even the most ardent believer would have had doubts, it's just too fantastical. When He reappeared the doubt was gone and what must that have been like. It really was Him. He really is the Christ!

I ran across this yesterday on a blog called Intersect and thought it needed to be here:

Resurrection Sunday.

Resurrect hope in the discouraged.

Resurrect freedom for the slave.

Resurrect healing for the estranged.

Resurrect dignity for the poor.

Resurrect belonging for the teenager.

Resurrect meaning for the homebound.

Resurrect purpose for wayward.

Resurrect significance for the small.

Resurrect love in marriages.

Resurrect communication between parents and children.

Resurrect forgiveness in the hurt.

Resurrect repentance in the proud.

Resurrect dependence in the self-sufficient.

Resurrect relief for pandemic diseases.

Resurrect home for the homeless.

Resurrect courage for the afraid.

Resurrect compassion to our neighbors.

Resurrect reconciliation between our races.

Resurrect peace in war-torn places.

Resurrect comfort for the hurting.

Resurrect reflection in our busy worlds.

It is possible…

He is risen.

He is risen, indeed!

In Christ