Monday, September 17, 2007

Catechesis and its Arrangments Two

This is the prayer table and Level Two area. I'm still filling in a lot of materials, but there's a lot of room to put things, so as I get them I'll have a place to put them. We ended up doing prayer together between the two groups this Sunday which didn't work that well, so that part is going to need some tweaking. As you can see, I have yet to put together my Blue Strip, so I have some serious work ahead of me.




This is a sort of shared bookshelf supply area that is shared.


This space is reserved for my older/junior high class. Techincally this ought to be Level Three, although they're a touch too old. But I haven't been trained yet and so essentially I'm doing an Old Testament survey. I only have girls in this group, so far, and they love to paint and make books, so they have each had to pick a person from the OT (they all picked women) to do a project on (make a book, sculpt something, do a box like they did over the summer etc). They will have half the class to work, and the other half we will cover some event or person, hopefully hitting all the main highlights over the course of the year. My class has no knowledge of the Bible and wasn't in Catechesis that long, so I'm basically starting from scratch. At Christmas and Easter we will take a break and cover those major events. Plus, I'll probably have them do some of the timeline work that Level Two will be doing, since they haven't had it.


Here is our plant/practical life area.

Catechesis and its Arrangements One

Here, as promised, are pictures of my atriums. This is the Level One Atrium. I used to have my Level Two in this room. We had a minimal amount of materials and mostly borrowed from Level One and also shared work space with them. But now I am doing two groups in the larger space, so the little ones are in this tiny postage stamp room. However, it has a lot of light and is very serene. Pictures of Level Two will be in another post above.



Friday, September 14, 2007

Counting Things Out

One Vat Peanut Sauce for supper
(one jar creamy no addatives peanut butter,
one package chicken,
5 fresh tomatoes,
3 inches tomato paste,
1 inch fresh grated ginger,
one large onion,
2 cloves garlic,
1 tub home made stock,
simmered together for an hour, plus rice)

Seven chocolate covered strawberries

One crying boy not wanting to share the final banana (I wanted the whole banana. I wanted the last bite. I don't E to have any banana-at least he's perfectly honest.)

One wiggly girl twirling and making up poems-long, long, long complicated poems.

One frustrated baby, unable to leave the computers alone, even knowing he will constantly be in trouble, weeping, smacking the keyboard-a poignant and desperate picture of the compulsive sin nature we all fight against, or should be.

One Micah
One Great Aunt Katherine
One blogging husband
One organized and energetic mother
Five computers (4 laptops)
Three large hot cats
One dog
Bed, there will I be, if you need anything.

as one too tired to blog, and yet, I keep blogging

Have got to have some kind of morning nap.

A is sticking letter stickers on Percival, the Knight in Shining Armour (Veritas Press' Phonics Museum). We just read the story, the Museum Quest and A was far less interested in the letters than who Percival was prepared to fight and when his horse would appear. He also really desperately wants a cookie. He can't believe that I'm not passing out cookies before 10am, my internal decision that the breakfast hour is officially over. He still has an hour to wait. Its been hard for him, the last few days, without E. The baby takes long naps and so he has to just be with me.

I still have to finish up these cupboards, do the bulletin and make up a bed for my Beloved Great Aunt Katherine who is coming to spend the weekend. My mother is actually going to drive down to NJ to get her and bring her back.

I need to pull myself away from the computer, but I'm obsessively checking Stand Firm and T19. Matt has gone into the Tunnel of News before any big event (that Big Event being the House of Bishops Meeting next week in New Orleans, for those of you who aren't following Anglican Communion News). Every now and then I'll get an IM from him asking if I've read such and such, which, of course, usually I haven't. So now that I'm here, planted in front of this machine, I'm loath to get up and walk away for fear of missing something. Matt and I don't usually speak to each other when something big is on the horizon. We IM and email mostly. And then Sunday afternoons we have a talking binge after church.

Anyway, enough blogging. A is weeping that the letter stickers are hurting him. I don't know how on earth such a thing would be possible. But if there's a way to be hurt by something, A will be the one to find it. Yesterday I caught Baby (I really need to start calling him R) smacking A and taking his toys. A was weeping instead of defending himself. This surprised me, given that A is twice the size of R. But what do I know. So many find babies intimidating and scary, I guess A falls into that category. Maybe I should send R to New Orleans with Matt. I'm sure a punch and a bite from him will show KJS and the ABC how things ought to be . Honestly, someone stop me, this could go on for hours!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Pizza, then later the House of Bishops

Pizza for Supper, I should have taken a picture.

I made one regular pizza dough (Joy of Cooking Basic Pizza Dough) with tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni—not something I would usually do, but we were cooking for people in the church. And then for us I substituted one cup white flour for whole wheat and, having run out of tomato sauce made a béchamel with the left over cheese and topped it with feta, basil, fresh thyme, some of the rest of the pepperoni and a little bit of cheddar. My main fault was getting tired and using all the whole wheat dough on one pizza. Should have done two, but other than that it was (I thought) delicious. My mother keeps insisting its not really pizza with a béchamel instead of tomato but I’m sure someone in Italy, at some moment in time has done what I just did, surely (even though I’m not Italian at all).

Managed also to move baby out of the nursery in with the other two kids by entirely taking apart the crib and putting it back together. They’re all in there together shouting happily. Hope they decide to sleep. This allows me a dedicated nursery for the next baby to scream it out in, when that auspicious moment arrives.

So now, I’m sitting here trying to decide whether to go to bed (its 8 o’clock and would really be a good idea) or whether to read more comments on Stand Firm, or start work on this Sunday’s bulletin, or keep shoving things in cupboards, or read some sort of news or politics online.

It occurs to me that no amount of reading or speculating quietly to myself will have any impact on the House of Bishops Meeting next week. None. What a depressing thought. I could pray about it.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

complaint

I'm cleaning out my cupboards. I'm sickened by the amount of stuff we've managed to jam into this house in a short 5 years. We have so much furniture you can barely walk through the house, and every closet and cupboard is jammed. I have three enormous bags of paper I'm throwing, and there are bags and bags of clothes I want to get rid of, and really, I'm ready to start putting the furniture out on the curb to be taken on garbage day.

There are all kinds of spiritual conclusions I could draw from this, and I invite you to go ahead and draw them.

I am going to have a cup of hot milk and go to bed. Perhaps in the morning all this stuff will look different and I will long to keep it all.

Vanity, thy name is

I was staring at my little profile picture last night and it was making me irritated. Its a good picture (if I do say so myself), one of my best, which, of course, is why I picked it. But I'm 8 and something months pregnant and I don't look that thin right now and so looking at me all skinny day after day is starting to get on my nerves. The picture now there is of Blenheim Castle. I believe I was 10 when I visited it with my parents and we had our picture taken out front. Rather think it looks like we own the place. Much more restful to look at (for me). We'll see how long that lasts.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Now, what is the gospel about?

Matt posted this morning on Stand Firm an excellent articulation of the Gospel, made all the more timely by this very telling (heh) quote from Elizabeth Kaeton at Telling Secrets (hat tip Matt via Captain Yips)

“If Christ Jesus wasn’t crucified because he was being true to his authentic self, so that we, like him, might be able to live our lives with integrity, then I have completely misunderstood the message of Jesus and I have no right to call myself a Christian, much less an Episcopalian in the Anglican tradition.”

Well, yes, absolutely. Couldn't have said it better myself. I commend Matt's article to Ms. Kaeton and hope that it will clear up her various misunderstandings.

More Conversation with E

On the way home from school

E:Today I went to art class.
Nonni:You did? What did you make?
E:I made a picture and I had to fill up the whole page. The WHOLE PAGE.
Nonni:What colors did you use?
E:Blue, and red, and yellow.
Nonni:Aha! The primary colors.
E:Why are they PRIMARY?
Nonni:Because if you’ve got red and blue, you can make purple; and if you’ve got red and yellow you can make orange, and if you’ve got blue and yellow you can make green. So with three primary colors you can make three more.
E:Oh. I didn’t finish making a present for your daughter.
Nonni:You didn’t? Who’s my daughter?
E:MOMMY! She’s your daughter! Didn’t you know that?
Nonni:I knew that. I was just checking to make sure we were both on the same page.

A Small Remembering

Matt and I had been married exactly one month six years ago today. Generally we got up and turned on the news and got ready for classes at Virginia Theological Seminary, where we were both studying (about 5 minutes from our townhouse in Alexandria). I remember looking in the mirror, one month after fitting into my gorgeous and tiny wedding dress, and thinking 'wow, I'm really thin, this is really great' or something like that, and shoving myself into a pair of tiny trousers and a periwinkle colored blouse and feeling fabulous. Anyway, we didn't turn on the news. We just got ready to go and got in the car and started driving in towards DC to the Dominican House where we had a class that morning. We'd been in the car maybe 55 seconds when I turned on the news and we heard the live reporting from NYC. Two or three minutes later, once we were actually on 395, we heard the Pentagon get hit and then all the aftershocks (thought the whole city was being bombed) and were immediately routed off onto Quaker Lane. We wended our way back to the seminary and watched TV for the rest of the day. Late afternoon there was a service in the chapel, at which the dean and some student only wore black cassocks. Weeks after there was arguing over whether or not they should have worn white surpluses over the cassocks. Wanted to scream every time I heard this discussion going on.

I think a lot changed immediately. The seminary, already divided politically and theologically became polarized. Matt and I spent more and more time together in our apartment studying. And we decided to have a baby right away, which was a shock and horror to the seminary community as well. And since that morning I try always to listen to or read the news before leaving the house. One never knows.

Morning Thought From E

Getting in the Car to go to school

E: I’m not coming home tonight.
Matt: Why?
E: I’m staying over (at school)all night.
Matt: Well, I think it’s a regular day. I think you’re coming home tonight.
E: That’s not quite what I was expecting.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Growing Up

Well, we're officially parents. I know this news probably doesn't shock many of you, given that we're about to have our fourth child. But it has come as a shock to me. We went to the first Parent's Open House at E's school this evening. She's been in school nearly a whole week and has been coming home day after day in a complete fog.

'How was school, E?' I say every day.
'Good' she says.
'What did you learn?
'I learned to read and write.'
'Oh, well, that's wonderful' I say. But beyond that she hasn't been able to tell me anything (it is a LONG day-8am to 2:30pm). So we've been kind of in a cloud of unknowing, wondering what she does all day and hoping its what we signed up for.

But it turns out that all is well. She is learning many things and will over the course of the year.

She has a wonderful teacher, a Mrs. Rising, but we really know her best as Miss Wising. And a nice colorful class room full of mostly girls and only three boys (Caleb, Caleb and Giovanni-I can't wait to meet this young men, what a wonderful gift, Caleb, Caleb and Giovanni). And, for me, a whole new set of responsibilities-the blue school shirt for chapel day, the gym clothes for gym days, the Friday packet and homework, the lunch each morning, the upcoming parties for Thanksgiving and Christmas and Valentines' Day, and a lot of things I've already forgotten.

But most of all, I'm profoundly grateful that E is in a nice school where she will actually learn something, rather than at home with me, the two of us struggling day after day over letters
('What's this letter, E?'
'A' says E
'What sound does it make?'
'Pppp' says E
'E, seriously, you think this A makes a Pppp sound?'
'Hah, no, it says Ahhh'
'E, do you understand why you would want to know what this letter says?'
'Oh yes, so that I can read. But I already can read, so we don't need to do this.'
And other such conversations).

I've come to view the schooling of my children much like child birth. The main thing is to make a lot of plans and figure out how best it ought to happen, and then as soon as you get into the thick of it, chuck all the plans and do something that's really going to work. And then, having chucked the plans and had things go very differently than you intended, rejoice and give thanks for a healthy child, or a child learning to read, or whatever it is, and not feel guilty about it. That's what I'm doing tonight. And hopefully I'll still be doing it in the morning when I wake up at the despairing hour of 6 o'clock to make sure there's a lunch packed and a decent breakfast and launch into the battle of E having to wear the ugly blue chapel shirt instead of the nice pink blouse with the creamy buttons and the tucked sleeves. God help us all.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Rearranging the Furniture

I'm flipping my atriums.

I mean, I'm not buying a cheep atrium and fixing it up and selling it expensively, heh. I'm moving the 3 to 6s into the small room and the 6 to 9s into the big room. And of course, its like a sauna bath up there, the third floor of the church. I have two amazing and wonderful catechists who are there EVERY Sunday and who put up with my controlling and managerial attitude. So the three of us, and my mother, shoved book shelves and parables and infancy narratives around and I coerced my mother into looking at all the materials I've made over the last couple of years.

I'm deeply frustrated that my feet are so swollen so that I cannot run around and do all the shoving of furniture myself. So, both to comfort myself, and to become more holy, I'm going to start reading my mother's lovingly worn copy of Gold By Moonlight by Amy Carmichael.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Update on Change of Plans

Well, I'm really too hot and tired to blog. The computer is too hot. Everything is too hot and sticky. We're waiting for another storm to roll in and while we wait I continue to sin against God and my neighbors in the vast area of having a very very short temper and being less and less able to cope with any adversity at all. I've been reading other women post about how gracious God has been in giving them patience in the care and nurture of their children, but even just reading posts about patience puts me in a bad temper.

So, thank heaven's! my mother arrived safe and sound, just in the nick of time. She's exhausted with jet lag and surprised also by the heat, I think, but full of patience and all good things, including chocolate, and small wooden Swedish horses and a real genuine Malian Balafon for A (pictures forth coming-I know I keep promising that).

All I want to say tonight, is THANK YOU, all of you who prayed for our friend. He was released from the hospital today, in tact, better even, than before, with a long road of recovery ahead of him, but SAFE and Sound. Thank you. Part of the reason I haven't posted all week is because Matt and I have been over to see him a few times and have been fielding calls of inquiry about his well being. God is good and we're so grateful.

So now, really, this keyboard is too hot for words. I'm going to shove away this large furry cat (Seriously, Micah, come get your cat, four hot cats is TOO MANY) and go lie in front of the fan.

Monday, September 03, 2007

a change of plans

We've been trying to clean this wretched house all day. Its been hot, and we had to go out and get groceries (blessings of blessings, Matt pushed the cart all over the store and got everything while I leaned on it and wondered whether the baby was just going to drop out of me or not), and we're tired as we always are on Mondays, and well, we just haven't been able to pick up and clean.

And then, around 4 pm, just when we thought we might really get up and do it, we went instead to pray for a beloved friend and parishioner who is facing a serious surgery tomorrow morning and to bring him communion and just hang out for a bit. We prayed and talked and got to see his wife and baby and just be there. And then we got back in the car and realized that there are a lot more important things than a clean house. And that rather than going home and cleaning we should go and pray some more and talk to our kids and pray some more, and if we go through the week with a messy house, well, so what.

I hope you will join us in prayer tonight for this man, our friend, his family, his wife and baby and for our whole church. God is good. He will make all things well. We pray this tonight, with our whole heart and soul.

Threads and Loose Ends

Today and tomorrow are my last days to sleep in, probably ever. E starts school on Wednesday and has to be there early, seemingly the crack of dawn (8am), and its far away. So I will begin a long year of waking up early to get her there in tact and prepared. I don't know how its going to work out, obviously only by the grace of God.

Some of you know that I tried to do 'some preschool' with E at home last year as a testing of the waters of homeschooling. I'm deeply grateful to God that I tried this out because it turns out that E and I drive each other crazy and that the chances of her learning anything at home, let alone reading, writing, arithmetic, and the love and grace of God, are very very very low. So she is very excited to go off and has clothes for it, and supplies for it, and a lunch box and can't wait. And I am grieving and wishing she weren't already 5, and digging out my books to try my experiment again with A, who seems to be a very different little person than E.

So this week everything changes for us, even as the march toward Baby # Four drives relentlessly on. I was so tired after church yesterday, Matt got in the car and looked at me and said, 'wow, you're really pregnant,' in an amused way. Wanted to hit him but didn't have the energy. Which brings me to the real reason I was going to post this morning, and that is to link his sermon, which he has helpfully posted himself on Stand Firm. I've been trying not to constantly link to SF on the assumption that all of you who read me read there first anyway, but I was planning to post his sermon and he beat me to it.

The last few weeks, as I've mentioned before, I have been moved and fed by Matt's sermons-a surprising happenstance, especially when I've read the sermon ahead of time, as I did this week. I'm posting this one because many threads came inexorably together as I was listening to him, winding themselves into the firm tight Point that it is now time, more than ever, for me to Count the Cost. I've been counting the cost in vague and disorganized way. I go about my life at church and home knowing on some level that things in the wider church are getting hotter and messier, but basically not worrying about it too much.

But yesterday as I listened to Matt I was thoroughly bowled over by reality. This isn't going to get better, right away any way. The communion stands to be unraveled. The American church is on the edge of dissolution and destruction. Good Shepherd has been and will be affected. Me, I am in this mess also. I've written these things down before, but today, somehow, they seem real.

So, we're going to clean the house seriously today. And get some groceries in. And get my mother's room ready for her. And make sure E has everything she needs. But also, today, as I do all these routine things, I'm going to seriously count the cost, and ask God to show me what is required, what I must do, how I must be, even as he judges the church and my own small heart.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

HAPPY Birthday!


I want to wish my dad a very Happy Birthday today. I think he's still gallavanting around Europe with my mom, getting in some nice holiday before school starts in Nairobe in a few days. I've been reflecting all day on what, if anything, my father has taught me and have concluded that 1. he has taught me a whole lot and 2. the most important of which is to try always and in everything to have as good a time as possible. So I hope he is having a very good time today, and I also miss him very much and wish he would opt for a good time, cut class, and come back to Binghamton with my mom. Happy Birthday!

Friday, August 31, 2007

A Little Something

I've been lurking around the myriad of Catholic Mothers out there Blogging, many of them having lots of babies, many of them homeschooling, all of them very pious and holy. And the great fad seems to be this widget baby thing you can post up showing how big your baby is getting, day by day, and how many days to go. So, in honor of the very nice person who encouraged me to 'keep gestating', I thought I'd put one up myself, even though I'm not catholic, nor that pious. Enjoy.

Children in Conversation

E (with doll stuffed in shirt): Come on Spiderman. Its time to go to the hospital and have a baby.
A: Ok, Cinderalla, let's go.

Later...

A: Tomorrow we will go on a bear hunt.
E: That will be scary. I will take a doll.
A: Yeah. I will have to bring a sword. Bears are everywhere...If I kill the bear, the bear will be killed, right?
K (friend of us all): That's right.
...
E: You know who is really strong? God. Even Mommy. And I can take care of my dolls.
A: I can take care of the bears.
E: I think that's God's job.
A: I want to take care of the bears.
E: Well, maybe God needs a helper.
A: I can kill all the bears.
E: No, that's too much of a job.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Gathering Storm

It feels like its a hundred degrees, even though apparently it is only 80 something. We're waiting for a storm to come in but it seems to be taking its own sweet time. We're all at angles and corners. A spit part of his lunch out and so, in consequence, is sitting in front of his bowl, still. He could have gotten up without eating it all but the spitting ruined that option for him. He is moaning. E carefully hid our nice Alphabet Flash Cards, presumably for some game or other, and so she is not doing anything fun this afternoon, but is wandering around looking for the last five.

'Look in the places where you hid them' I've said 36 times.
'Oh' she says each time.

If she finds them maybe she'll have some chocolate milk, but at this rate it will be tomorrow before that happens.
And the baby is hot and cranky. He's crawling around, his hair completely on end, exhausted because he woke up at 2am and then his nap was interrupted by his siblings shouting about something.

In all this moaning and shouting, I've been keeping a distracted glance on the Anglican TV live stream of the consecrations in Kenya. I've seen pictures of the cathedral from my mother who has gotten to sing there on occasion. My parents don't go often, I think, because traffic and crime are prohibitive (its no accident that the litany included something or other about safe driving).

I'm strengthened and encouraged by what I've seen, even the Kum Ba Ya (heh-reminds me of the strange experience of hearing a fancy Ivorian choir sing 'Allelu, Allelu, Allelu, Alleluia, Gloire au Seigneur'-Praise ye the Lord, fully expected them to stand up and sit down, but they just stood, at the Basilica in Yamasoukro, but that's another story). The storm continues to build ahead of September 30, and Lambeth and beyond, but these men (and women, shocked to see so many women clergy) are walking headlong into the thunder and lightning, their faces set.

I'm encouraged to keep going myself. I will admit. I've been anxious. I don't want the whole communion to come unglued. I don't want, potentially, to have to walk away from our church building, this house, this neighborhood (God willing, we won't have to). I don't want to deal, any more, with an apostate and heretical "church" flinging itself headlong into spiritual death. But I've got to keep walking forward, into the storm, even though I don't want to. I've got to and I can, with God's help. That Africa, and other parts of the world, in the face of slander, racism, condescension and loss should continue to chart a way forward, should continue to trust in God and do the hard work of spreading the gospel, should be able to stand up to the west and its lies, well, I can pull it together and stop moaning myself. God is in charge. He has a solution to this whole mess. He is on the other side of the storm. For heaven's sake, he is in the storm.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Not in anyway to get away from the subject of preaching, but I've been wanting to post about my Summer Sunday School project for some time and I've finally got the pictures off my camera, so I wanted to put them up and describe a little bit of what we did. For those of you who missed the post way back in June, we have serious Sunday School ALL summer, for adults and children. This arose in part because Matt just kept teaching the first year, and we had so many new people in the church that it didn't occur to them to take the summer off. And of course, all the adults having educations meant that the children had to have something as well. I've been insistent that Catechesis of the Good Shepherd not go on all year-everyone needs a break-and so every summer we cast about in a panic about what to do with the kids. One year we read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe outloud. Another year we sat around in a hot room and read the book of Judges. This year, in a fit of exasperation, I prayed about it (imagine! Prayer!) and then went to AC Moore to think about what might be interesting. And within an hour I had filled my cart with every manner of good things and concocted (although I suppose that would have to be God) an idea to go with it.

The first week they got a box to paint. Here is one.

And mine


The week after they got a little wooden booklet sort of thing to paint. I took the flimsy paper out and cut nice thick paper down to size. Each Sunday they got an object to paint or draw or glue and a verse to go with it. They had to copy the verses themselves into their little books.
Here is the outside of my book. As you can see, I had a theme going.


The verses they got to go with that first week were Hebrews 4:12; Psalm 119:105; Psalm 119:11; and John 1:1.
After that we did the Law with Deuteronomy 6:4-6 and they got a little wooden heart to paint.
Then the Cross, 1 Corinthians 15:3-4, and a cross to paint.
Then Light and Salt, Matthew 5:14-16. This was a favorite. They got a candle holder, a candle and a little jar which they themselves filled with salt. I had thought they would just paint the candle holder but they painted everything-candle, holder, salt jar, cork, everything.
For Communion, 1 Corinthians 11:23-26, I found little cups and plates which they took out and sprayed gold and then some painted on top of the gold. These also turned out beautifully, and the business of going out and spraying gold paint everywhere was a huge success.
For the True Vine, John 15, they got little pots and glued little mosaic pieces onto to them (or painted them) and then a packet of seeds. I had thought to hand out dirt, but didn't in the end, and it was just as well. The glue was fairly messy.
The Good Shepherd, John 10:11-14, was little boards onto which they drew or copied a Good Shepherd icon picture. I had a bunch they could choose from. Some where really detailed, others more plain, but all turned out well.
That was a lot of scripture so then they got a book mark on which to illuminate their favorite verse from the summer. Last week was a puzzle/synthesis. And this coming week they will get get small cards and envelopes to write something to God, a final note to put in the box and then they can take the lot with them.
Then I have a week off before Catechesis kicks off again for the fall. Gasp.
So, here are two of my favorites. These two rarely missed a sunday and spent plenty of time on detail. They will both get a prize for a full box, and should they (or anyone else) choose to memorize the verses, they will get an enormously special and huge prize. I have two that have set out to do this, so we shall see.
Here is one full set (up to this last Sunday).

And another.


I'm going to post this as it is and put more pictures in another post for fear of loosing what I've got. Anyway, it was a fun project that kids responded VERY well. It was exactly the right age for this sort of hands on work (6 to 12). If you're casting about for something to do, I recommend this highly. Smearing paint around and dwelling over some important scripture can't be beat.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

preach something real, for heaven's sake

Matt pointed out to me last night that I haven't written anything interesting in ages, other than vignettes of family life and vacation and this and that. Point well taken. I haven't really had much of a mind for anything lately. At his, Matt's, behest I have tried to lay aside the endless stacks of PG Wodehouse novels (to which I have been devoting myself utterly and completely) and read a book on preaching, expository preaching to be exact. It is actually an excellent book, when I can read more than three lines without falling asleep. So far it varies from my seminary education in one major way-namely, that the preacher's exegetical work should stick out in the text of the sermon, so that everyone can see it, rather than being worked seamlessly into the sermon's own 'narrative'. The author (hang it all, I can't remember his name, and I'm too pudgy to get off the couch at this particular moment and find the book; I'll try and post it later) believes that the hearer of the sermon, over time, should be trained to be able to test and evaluate the preacher's exegesis themselves, because it is evident in the sermon itself. This approach does move the sermon over and out of the camp of 'experiencing a narrative moment' (what I have heard called "The Preach Moment" (if this doesn't alarm you, nothing else I can say will) and into one of 'teaching', which is, frankly, not at all a bad thing given the state of most Episcopal churches in America today. Every Sunday an empty experience that makes the hearer feel like they've been fed, when, in fact, there was nothing there. On the whole I agree entirely and am even determined to finish the book.

However, it saddens me that things have gotten so bad in the church that I would have to let go of my beloved narrative poetical sermon style. I'm good at it, I'll be honest. I love the process of study and writing and the narrative that emerges. I was considered a fantastic preacher in seminary and my ego grew accordingly. It can be a beautiful experience, both to write and to hear a narrative style sermon and I've been fed by the real substantial narrative preaching of some Episcopal priests who were good at this model. However, it really doesn't work in the ordinary life of the parish. Its too wispy. I've become wispy, I think, in my preaching. It can't all be blamed on the style, of course, I keep having babies instead of doing good solid exegesis, but that is certainly part of it. The church needs more substance, and needs to be able to check the preacher's work against the Scriptures, and needs to be involved in the process of the sermon itself. It has reached, practically, crisis proportions.

Never the less, letting that go and moving onto the greater and weightier task of expository preaching, in the wake of Matt who is, frankly, getting to be excellent at it, will be my task once I have regained some serious lung space and gotten some good sleep. I will keep you posted as to how it goes.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Happy Anniversary Again!

Happy 40th Anniversary to Matt's parents, Doug and Shawn Kennedy! Matt informed me today that they have been an exemplary model of a good marriage for him, and he is abundantly grateful for their witness and life together. I have heard that they celebrated at the very restaurant at which Matt pleaded with me to marry him. I agreed, of course, only to put him out of his own misery (just kidding). Anyway, I had quail that night. I think Matt had duck. I am longing to know what Shawn and Doug had. May the next 40 years be even happier than the last!

Friday, August 24, 2007

Happy Anniversary!

I would like to wish my mom and dad a Very Happy 33rd (I think) Wedding Anniversary! They, I am jealous to report, are have a nice few days in Brussels next to the Grand Place and are eating a lot of nice things-Moules, frites, muscadet, chocolate-everything, indeed, that I long for. In honor of them I have just made two loaves of brown bread, one full loaf of white, two small mini loaves and a pan of buns and a large bundt of Monkey Bread. May the next 30 years be even happier than the last!

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Babies and Cake

In honor of my birthday, and because I'm really only a few weeks away from delivering this baby, we lugged all the children to the doctor this morning to see the ultra sound. I generally try to go alone to the doctor because I don't like to scare first time mothers with a lot of children. You can see their eyes widening when you walk in with a whole bunch and imagine what they must be thinking--same thing I thought when I was on Baby #1, 'boy, that woman has a lot of kids, she must be exhausted, hope I'm never that tired'. But today we braved it and were duly rewarded by some great shots of this baby's face, chubby cheeks and all, and an excellent looking spine, and all the limbs in the right place. God is so good. And then A, in awe and wonder, taking his finger out of his mouth and gasping, 'I love G so much'. Even R was swept up in the moment, shouting loudly and unintelligibly.

So, the days are flying by, and I have been admonished by the doctor not to imagine that I will make it all the way to the 14th of October, but to plan on the arrival of this baby rather sooner. No complacency for me. So Matt had better high tail it home from the HOB meeting the end of September-It will be such an exciting week for So Many Reasons.

Also, in honor of me, he (Matt) baked his first ever cake. He has mastered food of every kind, but never ventured into baking. He turned out, after much thought and consideration, Nigella Lawson's Dense Chocolate Loaf, covered in whipped cream and baked to absolute perfection. Honestly, the heavenly host of angels probably wishes they could eat this cake. This after setting out sausages and mashed potatoes and peas for dinner (hey, its my favorite, I was born in England). All that was missing was a packet of brown sauce.

And, I was given a sleek new camera, so here is a picture of the cake.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Joy Cometh in the Morning, Blast It

In honor of my birthday tomorrow, I waddled down to the DMV to renew my driver's license. I could have sent in the form a month ago after having had an eye test, but I lost the eye test form and forgot about the date and completely mucked it up. So it occured to me that going in person Before the day it expired might be a good thing, which I did.

I found an out of the way little known DMV in a tiny room of a large city office building inhabited by one extremely competent DMV person and a short line of people. I lumbered in and stood in line for a second and then sat in one of the two available chairs.

A nice friendly gentleman asked me when I was due.
'Mid October' I said.
'You're first?'
'No, this will be my fourth'
He staggered backwards. 'You have more courage than me' he said.
Then another large pregnant woman came in (such a lot of pregnant ladies for such a small space) who there upon made me feel like a wimp by standing while I sat.
Anyway, when it was my turn in line, it took me a total of THREE Minutes to renew my licence! Amazing. I got away in 25 after having paid 2 hours for parking because I figured it would take that long. Happy Birthday to Me!

Which brings me to my first deep Blog reflection about having a birthday. I know, we all have them. For Matt, his birthday is the best day of the year, aside from Christmas. Apparently, in his youth, he ate ice cream all day and opened presents and was perfectly happy (this is his own account of the past). I have never been able to live up to this kind of happiness.

My birthday was always and consistently the day I had to report back to boarding school. Even if I didn't make it back to school on that exact day, it was always within the week, looming like a black depressing cloud over the whole business of getting older. As time went by, I became antagonistic towards the day of my birth and felt that it was the one day, sent by God, to teach me that life is a veil of tears and all flesh is grass and we are but dust and to dust we shall return.

Later, in college, I tried to reclaim a sense of joy about being alive and getting older by celebrating my birthday for the whole month of August, so that the one day wouldn't be the focus of any attention, happy or unhappy.

This practice, however, of celebrating myself for several weeks rather than being distraught for one day, runs contrary to every fiber of the Kennedy being. Matt, his mother, probably all of his sister and his cousins and his aunts, expect that one's birthday is a cause for joy and happiness.

Matt, just now, leaning over, inquired what I would like for breakfast on my birthday. Well, according to my sin nature, I ought to eat oatmeal and then work really hard for the up building of the kingdom. I refuse to get all expectant and happy, no matter what.

However, reviewing the situation from afar, objectively, as it were. I do have every cause to celebrate. I've done an awful lot in a relatively short time. I'm about to have my fourth child. I have two degrees. I am happily married. I have a interesting and rewarding job in the church. I know how to cook and bake. I'm not sick. I have too much stuff. I have lots of family and friends. And, apparently, I'll be having a nice breakfast in the morning. Oh, and my roses are still blooming. And my mother is coming in two weeks. And my cat has forgiven me for going away. And I don't have to share a computer with Matt. Wow, the blessings are wildly abundant.
Anyone want to guess how old I'm going to be?

Monday, August 20, 2007

smatterings

The children are cold, or feigning coldness. After complaining about being too hot for three weeks, they are now too cold in 70 something degree weather. E has dug out an ancient and tiny coat she used to wear (it was her favorite then and appears to be her favorite now) and is wearing it over her sundress. Matt is mowing the lawn in a dedicated and devoted way. I'm supposed to be unpacking, but I can only work for about 10 minutes before I have to sit down and rest for 15. So far I've put away my toothpaste and shampoo, jammed some flowers into a jar, changed all the children's bedding, and read every conceivable blog I can get to. Its going to take me all week to get things put away, sigh.

However, that is really my only unhappiness. We came back to an energized and enthusiastic church yesterday. Amazingly, for the first time in this job, no crises arose in our absence and people did Ministry! Not just keeping the floors clean and toilet paper stocked, they've taken spiritual care of each other and various visitors and guests who came each week. So encouraging. And there are a plethora of ideas floating around for the fall. Along with unpacking this week I'm going to have to sit down and sort through all the options and plan what all we can do.

And our garden grew. So surprising. I've heard that if you put seeds in the ground they come up, but I've never experienced if first hand. I've got to figure out a way to take pictures.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Home Again. Home Again. Jiggidy....

Its nearly 10pm.
We're home in Binghamton. I had no intention of taking such a long break from blogging. My last post was from San Antonio and I had thought to post again the next day in Corpus, but the wireless options were highly limited, such that if I wanted to pilfer a connection from the neighbors I would have had to perch in an odd position in the bathroom-awkward for me in my present physical condition, and awkward for anyone who wanted to be in that particular room. So after a day or so I accepted my wireless computerless fate as one inflicted by God and did other things.

It amazes me that life goes on without the Internet. Amazes Me! I didn't even miss it as much as I thought I would. There were lots of other things to do. I spent some good solid lovely time with Matt's Mom and then later his sister and her kids. We went to the beach for a couple of days. We went on Sunday to a very fine Reformed Episcopal Church (I have notes of the sermon which will be forth coming in a day or so). We went shopping for school clothes and supplies. We watched the baby FINALLY walk (August 13th, 4pm in the afternoon). We watched E and her cousin, J, and A play with Transformers, Super Heroes and a large luxurious doll house all at the same time. And we watched cousin C lustily call for food and help. C, by the way, loves to eat, which is a great gratification for those of us who love to cook.

I would happily sit here and tell you all about it right now, but tomorrow is Sunday, and that means Church, which means getting up early and doing all the work that God has given me to do. So, I will not indulge myself. I will go to bed and tell you all about it tomorrow.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Children and their Shoes

So I've swung from being up far too early to being up far too late. I really can't think straight. I'm sitting in a fabulously comfy chair in my sister in law's house watching these amazing pictures of the bridge in Minnesota going down. Various people are being interviewed about where they were and how they got out. Interesting the number of times I've heard the words 'luck' and 'coincidence'.

While the residents of Minneapolis were coping with this amazing happenstance today, we (by that I mean Matt's Mom, Shawn, and sister, Megan and all the children excepting Rowan who was left miserably home with Matt for the day, since no one really wanted to lug him around) went School Shoe Shopping.

Quite far from luck, really more in the category of Divine Providence, was the playground directly in front of the shoe shop. So we took the kids in one by one to try on shoes instead of everyone going in together spreading chaos and mayhem abroad. And then lunch, and then ice cream, and then home to recover. I was interested in the process of trying on shoes. A went first and was weepingly dubious about having his feet measured. But then recovered and solemnly (the child could have been at the altar rail for all his piety) tried on three pairs of shoes, walking around in each one, finally picking the first pair. All, essentially, without words. E was next and requested to try on all the pink shoes, ended up not liking any of them and finally settled On Her Own on a pair of plain blue sensible Mary Jane type shoes. When asked why she wanted those ones, she replied that she liked them, 'because they are A's favorite color'. Very curious. Then she helped me pick out baby shoes for Rowan-sensible blue.

So now, given that they are all in bed and asleep, and my eyelids are sliding together, and I don't want to see any more of these pictures but would rather go and pray for all those who work or watch or weep this night, I will put this aside and go to bed.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

On the Road Again

Meant to get up at 5 to pack so that we could be on the road by 8am. But its now 6:37 and I'm still basically comotose, working through a tepid cup of tea. Really, let's be honest, I blame Matt. For some reason, since a horrible moment in Nashville when the handle broke off one of our two mugs, Matt has felt that I am to have this broken mug every morning, while he has the one with the handle, rather than trading off every other morning. So, at 5 am, when be brought me the broken handle mug full of tea (and let's be honest about that too--I ran out of good tea when we got to Dallas and I've been drinking something that vaguely tastes like dishwater ever since), I just couldn't cope and rolled over and went back to sleep. So, I don't imagine that we will be leaving by 8, particularly since before actually getting up, I have to confess my sins AGAIN and try to be a better person. Of course, I could be grateful that Matt brings me tea at all, but since when is gratitude one's first response in the morning, if we're going to be perfectly honest about it? If its yours, at least wait until this afternoon to let me know, when I'm awake and and holy.

More from San Antonio!

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Tuesday Morning

Its far earlier than I ever plan and intend to be up. But I am, and the children are not, and I daren't turn any lights on or do anything to wake them up, which means my only option is being on the computer, being, as it were, a light source.

While the fate of the Network was being mulled over in a nice large room at St. Vincent's Cathedral, yesterday, I was a few steps away in a very nicely equipped nursery, maneuvering my computer into various awkward positions trying to get more than one green bar so that I could get the live stream up and hear what was going on. The children played wildly and impassionedly (having been so long in the car, and in hotel rooms) with all the wonderful new toys. E, particularly, found a large blue plastic elephant which she forthwith named 'Alan' and carried around and sat on and talked to and organized.
'Why is the elephant's name Alan?' I asked her.
'Because', she said condescendingly, 'that's his name.'
Felt very stupid for not getting it. We don't even really know anyone named Alan. Am continuing to wrack my brain.

I DID manage to watch all of Bishop Venebles talk in the afternoon and was so encouraged and moved.

I do think that I, personally, have at various times erred and strayed like a lost sheep throughout this Anglican mess. It has essentially encompassed my whole time in the church-we had been in our job exactly one year when GC2003 hit us all like a train. I was glancing back over my journal of the last four years and realizing how little (if you watched or read Bishop Veneble's talk) I have kept my eyes on Jesus. Oh sure, every now and then I glance at him and ask what to do. But more often I'm plunging headlong into the next crisis or job or idea on my own steam and with my own plans. Not to say that Jesus can't fix it-he has, over and over. And I think over all the work I, and we, have done in the church has been good and is bearing fruit. But I need to let go of the power struggle. And I need to accept the fact of various persecutions that lie ahead, and not try to avoid them. And I need, more than anything, to trust God to sort this out in the long run.

In a cosmically spiritual way, its interesting to be in the noise and chaos of a nursery, surrounded by bright red plastic and shouting children, while important and Godly people, only a few feet away, discuss and confer and take votes and pray. I can watch it going on, in a distracted way, and pray for it, in a distracted way, and hope for the best. But its entirely out of my hands. Its ridiculous to imagine that I had any 'control' over the proceedings. And yet, day by day, I, in my life surrounded by red plastic and shouting children, imagine that I have 'control' over the plans and works of God, who cares for me and can handle everything without my help. So, that is my lesson for today. And a good thing too, because a child has just woken up shouting for MILK and BEAR, which means that everyone will be up now.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Monday Morning

It appears to be 10 in the morning, and E, A, R and I are back in our hotel room, in the cool, being quiet while R has his nap. Matt is in the first session of the Anglican Network Council Meeting, here in Fort Worth.

We managed, miraculously, to get all up and dressed and out the door in time for Morning Prayer and Holy Communion this morning. However, the kiddos only lasted through Morning Prayer before succumbing to the desire to yell loudly in a quiet space. So Matt hauled them off while I sat and enjoyed Bishop Iker’s short talk. After that we wandered around looking for the Press Room, which is conveniently placed far away from any happenings and goings on. If all goes well, we (by that I mean me and all my children) will go back for lunch and then maybe try and stay and play for a bit. But that means the baby getting a good solid nap and me regaining my wits.

It is pervasively and overpoweringly hot outside. One wilts, essentially. So we are not setting our sights too high for going back and forth.

Yesterday we worshiped at Christ Church, Plano. David Roseberry preached one of the best sermons I’ve heard in a long while—best in the sense that it hit me right smack between the eyes. Realized, again, the spiritual weariness of the last few months and how much we need a good rest. Not just a holiday, but a spiritual pause where we (I should probably say I) stop and rest in the grace and mercy and love of God.

So, here we are, for today and tomorrow, and then Wednesday back in the car to go South and to Mimi, for whom we all long.

‘Are we at Mimi’s?’
‘No, A, this is a gas station. We still have three more days before Mimi.’
‘First we have milk, then Mimi?’
‘You may have some milk, if you like.’
‘Can I see Tatchi (another very important person)?’
‘Tatchi is 5 days back in the other direction. Are you sure you want to drive all the way home and not go see Mimi?’
‘I want to see Tatchi and Mimi.’
‘Well, yes, and you will be able to when Jesus comes back.’
‘When we rise again?’
‘Yes’
‘Ok.’

Saturday, July 28, 2007

We’ve made it to Dallas!

Amazingly. We had originally planned to stop in Little Rock last night, but then we were just tired of being on the road and wanted to get here.

We spent a very nice afternoon in Nashville, celebrating R’s birthday. We found, without trying, a Cheese Cake Factory, and thinking that it was a sort of relaxed place, sure to have Cake, we herded everyone inside. It turned out Not to be relaxed, but very very Nashville Fancy with painted walls and ceiling and a cohort of Waiters. The food was delicious and some nice person brought R a banana without us even thinking about it. So for his birthday lunch he had banana, bow tie pasta with butter and a Large Straw Berry Short Cake. E picked the desert, since all three of them were going to eat it, and I must say she chose well. It looked very festive and birthday like, all piled up with whipped cream, and R turns out to love strawberries. He stuffed himself until he began to look bilious and we made him stop.

Then we drove around looking for our hotel and ran into what I imagine are the fancy houses of Country Music’s ‘People’, not the actual stars, but the people who make the stars happen. I may be wrong, just my own speculation—very grand houses. We were particularly impressed with the churches in that part of town. There seem to be rich luxurious churches on every corner—Church of Christ, Church of God, Baptist, Methodist etc. (no Episcopalian that we saw), all with perfectly kept grounds, enormous facilities and fancy signs. And so many! There have to be far more churches than people. Matt observed that probably Everybody Has to go to church And give money, whether or not they believe anything at all. Now that’s a lifestyle I like—culturally enforced church attendance and giving. Ha. That I should live to see the day that happens in the northeast. If only we felt God calling us to minister to the needs of the spiritually poor Country Music Star. Well, I say that, but probably it would drive me crazy. There’s nothing like money to muck up the church.

We spent the afternoon swimming and trying to play Pick Up Sticks which turned out to be a bust. Felt bad leaving out baby Who Really Wanted to Play!, especially since it was his birthday. So we just let him mess up the sticks and try to eat them.

Yesterday was long indeed. 10 hours in the car. The children were basically golden. I would only note that a striking difference between E and A presented itself. E loves a public restroom. She wanted to see every bathroom at every stop and try it out, whether or not she really had to go. A would rather die than use a restroom of any kind. We had to plead, cajole, insist and finally bodily carry him in to go. He asked many many times if we couldn’t just go home to Binghamton so that he could go potty, instead of driving further and further away from home. Poor child. It made each stop fraught with emotion on both sides.

Towards the end of the day when everyone was tired, we had the following exchange.
A: (weeping) E called me a bird!
Anne: Are you not a bird?
A: (weeping) I am not a bird. E called me a bird.
Anne: E, did you call him a bird?
E: No. I asked him if he was drawing a bird.
Matt: There, A, E did not call you a bird.
A: (weeping) I am not a bird.
Matt: That’s right. You are not a bird.
A: I’m A.
Matt & Anne: Yes, you’re A.
A: I’m A and I’m a Shinning Armor.
Matt: Yes.
Anne: Shinning Armor?
Matt: Yes, just go with it.
Anne: Oh, Ah.

So now we’re in Dallas, in a nice cool hotel, gazing out at the heat outside its only 8:30 in the morning, but we’re all feeling like its 9:30 because of the hour difference, and there is agitation to go out to the pool. I suppose it’s probably already hot enough. If you need us for any reason, that’s where we’ll be.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Happy Birthday Rowan!

That's right. He's a whole One today, and more of a baby than ever. He says a total of 6 words: mama, daddy, aedan, cookie, gentle and down. Cookie, as you can imagine, is the most easily distinguished, along with 'Aedan'. He's not walking yet, as I mentioned before, but he is enjoying this long car ride pretty well. He sits between Emma and Aedan, hunched down like King Saul, and when he is very angry we turn music on very loud and he sits, subdued and angry, but throwing javelins.

So, in honor of Rowan, we will drive to Nashville and spend the afternoon and evening. Then tomorrow we will go on to Little Rock, and the next day to Dallas.

We've made up special charts by which the kiddos can earn stars for a prize. They get stars for Noticing Things, Asking Interesting Questions, Being Helpful to Baby and a number of other things. So far the incentive for stars is keeping the dreaded, 'are we there yet?' and 'when we will we get there?' at bay.

Two other minor thoughts. One, there are far too many trucks on the road. I say this with all admiration and respect for people who take on the task of trucking. I know they drive impossible hours, in difficult weather and conditions, are away from their families too much, and don't make enough money. All of which to say, there ought to be a way to do something that would allow the economy to continue growing, provide the requisite number of jobs, and make it safer for small cars on the highway. Perhaps by the end of the day I will have thought of something.

And two, though the Anglican Communion unravel before our very eyes, yet Christianity has not. After madly reading the various news on Stand Firm and listening to Matt's thoughts on the issues, discouraging though it all is, I am convinced, in the long run, that it is not ultimately all won or lost by the various leaders around the world. Really the next battle front is in the faith of our children, and whether we pass it on and under gird it and give it substance. Because that's really the problem, isn't it? The American Church has lost a whole generation of Christians and continues to flounder. So, even as we plan consider the real nature of Anglicanism, the questions coming from the back seat of the car are just as, if not more important.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

the miles go by

I'm snatching a moment while Matt is away from his computer to give a dinky update on our trip so far.

We left yesterday AMAZINGLY, at 10:00am on the dot (I called it-Matt insisted that we would leave at 9, but I know us better than that). The car is packed to stuffed, as you can imagine. Its so much more complicated, packing for three people that have opinions about what they take, rather than just one. I let Emma and Aedan spend most of Monday negotiating with me not only about the contents of their bags, but which bags they would take. Matt was surprised and unhappy to find that everyone has Their Own Bag. Nobody is sharing. Yesterday evening, apparently, when Matt was piling a cart high with all our stuff to come into the hotel, someone had the audacity to laugh at him. Heh. Sort of wish I'd been there.

We've just spent the night in Lexington, VA. I really want to get off the main road and see the Blue Ridge Mountains, and Matt really doesn't want to back track, so we stopped here instead of going all the way to Roanoke. Although as I look out the window it is pouring rain, so it will be a gray morning in the mountains. I'm bewitched by all the signs for 'Historical District', but Matt says every town in a America has a 'Historical District' and that we must not be suckered in. I guess we'll be choosing our detours carefully.

We have had our mishaps. Thought we only had one car sick child whom we managed, all day, to keep from throwing up (poor child). But it turns out we have two. Aedan managed to keep it together all day, and then threw up everywhere within 5 minutes of being in the hotel room. So we didn't go out to dinner. Matt ran around and find Chinese food (I know, come all the way to Lexington and eat Beef Broccoli, but the children love rice) and everyone had a bath.

This morning the children have watched, to my horror, Higgley Town Heroes, learning that the bridge builders and backhoe operator are Heroes. 'That's not true, Emma', I pointed out, 'You don't get to be a hero for doing your duty'. 'Not everyone is a hero'. Will have to bring it up again in the car. Honestly, the mediocrity, the political correctness, the insipidness of it all.

Anyway, onwards and upwards. The arguing about how far to go must Commence!

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Matt's Sermon from This Morning

It is my custom, at this point in pregnancy, to do as little as possible during services on Sunday Morning. I teach Sunday School, shmooze during Coffee Hour, do various jobs in the office, run up and down the stairs lots of times (Those Who Don't Think With Their Heads, Run With Their Feet), and a myriad of other odd jobs. So by the time the last service comes round, I position myself grandly in the rocking chair next to the choir and sit, not usually even getting up for the Peace. I miss preaching and being on the altar and the physical acts of worship, but this time I have really enjoyed sitting and letting it all happen, without having to be in the mix. AND, lucky for me, Matt has hit a groove in his preaching (there's a lot to be said for preaching many Sundays in a row, rather than switching on and off), and I've been able to listen and be fed, which can be hard, when the preacher is your husband. Anyway, this morning, as a result of this very fine sermon, I was able to stop and take inventory of my own work and service in the church, my motivations and intentions, my emotional stake in the whole enterprise, and my own willingness to sit at the feet of Jesus. I hope you all will take a moment to do the same.

Mary and Martha
There are a lot of workers at Good Shepherd. People here are always busy doing something for the church and it’s a wonderful thing to see. I was so impressed at our last work day at the number of people who gave their time and effort. But there are times when service, even in the church, displeases Christ. Our Gospel lesson this morning provides an example of one of these times and a principle that can be applied to everything that we do both in church and in the world. So let’s open our bibles to Luke 10:38-42.

At first Martha does everything right. She’s unwilling to let Jesus pass through her village, Bethany, without “opening her home to him.” She welcomed him. Martha and Mary may already know Jesus. They figure prominently in the gospels as supporters of his ministry. But whether they know him or not, Martha was certainly being hospitable. So far, so good.

But then, in verse 39 we’re introduced to Martha’s sister Mary. Mary we’re told, “sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.” To first century readers of this gospel, Mary’s repose at Jesus feet would have been considered extremely inappropriate.

Jesus having accepted Martha’s hospitality enters her home and begins teaching his disciples. The proper thing at this point would be for the hosts, Martha and Mary, to prepare a meal. This is especially true of Mary since she seems to be the younger sister. Martha, not Mary, “opened her home” which indicates that Martha held authority. So if anyone should be sitting at this point, and really no one ought to be sitting, it should be the elder sister Martha. Instead it is Mary. She’s not serving her guest, her Guest is serving her and she’s letting him. Shockingly inappropriate. By verse 39, 1st century readers would be expecting Jesus to commend Martha and to rebuke Mary.

And my guess is that if some of us had been there we would’ve had the same inclination. Jesus Christ is in the house. If you labor to prepare your home for regular guests, imagine the level of preparation if Jesus were coming or if he were sitting in your living room waiting for dinner. And here’s Mary sitting.

All the while, “Martha,” Luke tells us, “was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made.” The Greek word translated here as “preparations” is, in fact, the word for service. So this text literally reads, “Martha was a distracted by all the service.” And she wasn’t just fussing. Sometimes people just fuss around. There’s nothing really that needs to be done but they need to be doing something so they just find things to busy themselves. That’s not what is happening here. Preparations “had” to be made and Martha was making them. She was working her fingers to the bone.

And as she does this and as Mary sits, Martha’s attitude begins to change. We don’t want to read anything into this text that’s not there but if I step into Martha’s shoes for a moment I can imagine two things that may have been going on in her mind because they would have been going on in mine. First, I can imagine her thinking: “Here I am again, doing all the work. If something were to happen to me, this house would fall apart." “If it weren’t for me doing this and if it weren’t for me that then nothing would get done.”

And, no doubt, while it would certainly sound like a complaint if we heard it out loud, there’s also a little vanity, a little pride here as well. Search your heart honestly. In those moments when you’ve said or thought similar things: thinking of yourself as the key person, the hard worker, the one who gets things done, the doer, there’s been a little self-satisfaction there, a little pride. So I imagine there’s some pride here in Martha and that comes out later.

Second, I bet that as Martha worked she assumed that Jesus would notice and appreciate and recognize her service. And the longer she served and the longer Mary sat and the longer Jesus seemed not to care the more frustrated Martha became.

I always know when Anne is getting frustrated with my laziness. I’ll be downstairs on the computer and gradually the noise of pots and pans or whatever it is she’s doing grows perceptively louder until it is obvious that noise is being made purposefully. After 5 years of marriage I’ve learned that this is a signal and it means that I better get up off my duff and go help if I know what’s good for me.

But Jesus not only ignores Martha's work, but he’s just fine with Mary sitting there doing nothing.

Finally, after who knows how long, Martha loses it. She can’t contain herself anymore and out comes this complaint: “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself. Tell her to help me!”

Now, I hope you’ve noticed what’s happened here. It’s subtle but important. Martha has, in her mind, gone from servant, from serving Jesus, to master. Her words are accusatory and commanding. They’re the words of someone who feels entitled.

Martha has used her service as a means to establish her authority and control. People do that in the church all the time. I do this much work, I give this much money, so things better go my way. In Martha’s case, she’s let it go to the point that in her mind, her authority extends even over God’s only Son. “Tell her to help me.” That’s not a request or petition. That's a command.

What Martha has refused to do from the moment Jesus entered her home, is to sit at his feet and listen to his Word. Jesus is not an ordinary guest. The indignation building up in Martha’s heart would be excusable if Jesus were an ordinary guest. But he’s not.

Mary got this. She may have had her faults, but she knew that despite custom, despite tradition, despite what her older sister wanted her to do, this man, this Jesus was different and his words, his teachings far more important than getting the dishes done or the floor swept or the roast in the oven. And she was right.

When I first came to this church some very nice ladies came to me and said, "well we’re a church full of Martha’s not Mary’s so don’t expect to see many people at bible study." And then, later, I was told by a very fine gentleman, "Whatever you do, don’t preach over 10 minutes. There are so many other things to do on a Sunday morning that sit in church." And the idea behind both of these friendly warnings was that some people are workers and get things done in God’s kingdom and others go in for all the religious stuff. We’re the workers. We're the Marthas. Somehow, at some point, work and service in the church had come to serve as a rationale for neglecting the Word of God.

That’s not the lesson of this text. Jesus does not say, "I suppose I should stop teaching so that we can go into the kitchen and help Marth work." Martha is rebuked.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken from her.”

Service of any sort both in the church and in the world is always secondary in priority to the Word. Our work as believers cannot replace but rather must flow out of our study of Scripture.

Don't get me wrong. Jesus not saying that it's good to sit around on the couch 24/7 reading the bible. He is saying that the Word rather than the work is what is “needed”. Jesus does not need your work and service. He can do anything through anybody. No one is necessary or indispensable in the church. God can use me to preach his word or he can use an ass. I’m unnecessary. He wants to use me and he wants to use you, but he doesn’t need to use me and he doesn't need to use you. And, in fact, in order for us to be useful to the Master we must first know him and know what he says and know what kind of work he wants otherwise we’re running off in 25 different directions like Martha “distracted” by many things while neglecting what is necessary.

Walk into a dying church, and you can find them all around, and you’ll likely see that the few people there are good people, industrious people. You'll find that the grounds and facilities are clean and well cared for, the garden watered, but that the church is dying all the same. Why? More often than not the people have worked their fingers to the bone but ignored or neglected the careful study of God’s Word and obedience to it.

Make no mistake, when the next bake sale or bazaar comes around that church will be abuzz with energy and earnestness. But when the Word of God is preached, the people go to sleep. If the pastor dares start a bible study he finds himself alone staring at empty chairs. The bibles in the parishioners’ homes are thick with dust.

Why?

Being Martha is a lot easier. If you haven’t opened your bible in years; if you’ve never sat at Jesus’ feet and become familiar with his Word, then when it’s taught or read, you feel stupid and a little out of control and no one likes to feel that way so you avoid it and rationalize your avoidance with service. "Oh no, I have no idea what the bible says about this or that. I don’t really go in for that stuff, but I do serve on the ladies auxiliary." "I do take care of the grounds." "I do maintenance." "I vacuum once a month." "I serve as an usher" And meanwhile, the church dies. And all of the industrious work of the church is reduced to the work of an undertaker, making the carcass look good on the outside while inside it’s full of dead bones.

Service, especially in the church, is good and the Lord certainly calls us to it, but only one thing is needed and that is the word of God. Work without a prior commitment and devotion to God’s Word is a recipe for death. The word of God is the Word of life. Bible study is not one ministry among many, it is the necessary ministry that informs and under girds and gives life to worship and fellowship and service. Unless you know the Lord and know what he’s like and what will please him, how can your service be useful? Service means nothing and accomplishes nothing unless it is set under and born out of devotion to and dedication to the Word of God.

So ask yourself this morning. What role does scripture play in my life? Is it your benchmark, your guidebook, your measure, part of your daily walk with Jesus, is it the means of God’s nourishment and encouragement and comfort and conviction in your life as it should be or is it your paperweight? Is it nicely displayed on your mantle but never read? Do you get excited by the thought of Harvest Dinner and bored by the thought of bible study? That is the recipe for spiritual death. There’s no replacement, no exchanging, no excuse for neglecting the word of God. As believers and as a church we must sit at the Lords feet and listen to his word because that is the only way that our work will be pleasing in his sight.

odds and ends

Just wanted Again, to say a huge thank you to all of you who are continuing to comment. I figured out how to have comments directly to my email, and so I've been able to read what you all have been saying, even though I've been too wildy busy to really get on and blog.

Yesterday Matt married a young couple who, though very much taken with each other, were not particularly organized. Heh. I ended up stuffing myself into my black cassock (couldn't quite button it) and waddling back and forth between the Narthex with the bridesmaids, and the library where the groom men were trying to pull it together (whoever knew how complicated it could be to sort out a boutonniere). Anyway, after launching the bride down the aisle I went back to the office and kept hammering out bulletins and inserts and other mundane details. Very nice people periodically brought me large plates of food from the reception downstairs, so I ended up waddling home as well, at about 8pm.

So, I've now ironed various clothes, and am going to lay my hands on some Salt, some Tracing Paper, and some Seeds, for Sunday School. VERY excited about our lesson for this morning--everyone is going to get a little candle holder to paint, and a candle, and a little tiny jar in which to pour salt. I'm working busily on my own box, and as soon as I have a working camera, you will find a long photographed post with all the things we've done.

And finally, one clarification. Matt, after reading my last post, thought I meant, by 'samosas' something alcoholic.
'Why are we going to be drinking in the car?' he asked.
'What?' I said.
'Samosas', he said, 'orange juice and whiskey (or something, can't remember what exactly he said)'.
'What!', We're not taking whiskey in the car.'
Anyway, he wanted me to clarify, that by 'samosa', I mean little Indian pastries filled with potato and spices. This just shows how really I ought to have applied myself better to spelling.

Have a Good Sunday of Worship. Blessings!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

The List Gets Shorter

Took baby round for his Well Baby this evening. (Some lovely commenter asked if Baby is a he or she-he's very much a he, a shouting vigourous he.) Have a very interesting pediatrician. He's Russian Orthodox with a long Orthodox beard and a lot of Orthodox children (6, plus one on the way-due at the same time I am). And very pious. Its a pleasure to take the children to see him, because he glances at them, pokes and prods them, and then talks about the church (especially when Matt goes). Tonight, after looking in Rowan's ears and mouth etc. he took me through a maze back to his own computer to show me pictures of the chapel/church he's built in his yard. Its all done on the outside and they're working on doing frescos on the inside. His church/congregation is worshiping there now, so on Sunday's (and every other day-the orthodox are so much more pious than we indolent lax Anglicans) he has only to walk out of his front door and across the lawn to go to church. Noted that Good Shepherd, lovely and beautiful though it is in its own way, looks like a liturgical homeless shelter in comparison.

Anyway, so that's one more thing off my Giant List of Things to Do Before We're Allowed To Go on Vacation. Still remaining are the wretched bulletins I put off doing today, a wedding, sorting out Sunday School, Arguing with Matt about how much stuff we each get to take, and HOPEfully making bread and somosas, if I have time. I probably won't, but wouldn't it be nice to have fresh bread and fresh cold somosas in the car while driving all those many miles? Isn't that what ever Road Trip calls for? Am aiming high.

pastors and their children

I'm supposed to be running around getting bulletins started and cleaning the bedrooms and calling various people (given that I have a few minutes of all the children going off in various directions doing fun things with other people) but I did just want to link to this article--very interesting and insightful, given all the discussion that's gone on in recent days about children, and the church, and the clergy. Hope you enjoy.
If I'm very good and manage to get on top of things this morning, I'm going to allow myself a computer spree this afternoon. But then, things never go the way we plan, do they. So, on verra!

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Step Up

Baby just will not take steps for me. He's taken steps in the church nursery, in the other room for Matt when I was just around the corner out of view, and for other various people. But when he sees me, he sits down and refuses to take steps. Even tried the old stand by-Matt holding cookie and moving back to keep baby walking. THIS baby won't walk for a cookie. This baby becomes utterly frantic for cookie and screams so loudly and so longly, that we just give him the cookie. Lay on the floor laughing while baby hyperventilated for the cookie and Matt tried to get him to at least stand up. After two cookies (unearned), baby ate an egg and a handful of Cheerios and part of a banana. Went to bed looking chubby and laden. But no steps. Maybe tomorrow.

Monday, July 16, 2007

On all that has gone before, and what may be to come

Many of you have noticed, perhaps, that it has been a whole week since I posted in this space, and that I have been uniformly silent on other various comment threads (although I will be perfectly honest, I have been unhappily hitting ‘refresh’ over and over on a number of sites, wanting, and Not wanting to see what people are saying). This silence has, for the most part, been self imposed. I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before, and I tend to be a touch (though not extraordinarily) headstrong and impulsive. So, for once, I wanted to seriously stand back and survey the landscape and reflect on what happened, what is happening, what it all means and what a proper Christian response might be.

There remains one problem with my strategy in this case. I had hoped that in a matter of a week (a whole week, a long week, you wouldn’t believe how long) this matter would have found some conclusion. Matt and I, the blogoshere, everyone would have discovered the matter resolved and therefore over. This, however, appears to not be the case. Ms. Kaeton, having returned from her missionary endeavors in Belize, apparently feels persecuted.

I have three carefully considered thoughts.

First of all, as I said last week in the thick of shock, I am not angry with Ms. Kaeton for her words with regard to the murder of my children. Matt and I have forgiven her. We bear her no ill will. We all say things that we do not mean or even things that we fully intend but know that we shouldn't. We are all sinners.

Second, we continue to worry for the integrity of our family because Ms. Kaeton has not, up to the time of writing, withdrawn the threat of calling in the authorities to review our home and our children. Should Ms. Kaeton publicly withdraw this threat, it would go a long way toward bringing peace between us. I encourage her to do so and pray that she will.

Third, I will not clutter up this blog space, which I love and enjoy, with any further posts or material concerning this matter. I have, over the last week, been keeping careful account of all that has gone on, as well as all the delightful things that my children are doing, all the regular stress of life, in my private journal (as, indeed, I have always done), and should the moment ever be right, some of that material may find its way here, but not until this is sorted out. I do not know, at this moment, the extent or content of any posting in the days to come. I am trying to spend more time praying than being on the computer.

I want to say, finally, how much I appreciate all of you who read and comment and call me on the phone to tell me you’ve read my posts. This is a new kind of communicating (as so many have noticed). It is dynamic, immediate and interactive. With a few clicks of the mouse, I can let you into my living room and into my life and show you all that is going on—all that God is doing, all my sin, all my joy. And, as we’ve noticed, that dynamism and immediacy brings with it some dangers. For example, anyone can read, anyone can think anything they like, anyone can draw any conclusion, some of those conclusions damaging and bitter. However, for me, and I suspect for many of you, the creativity and delight of this communication far outweighs the dangers and sin. And so, in short order, you will find me back here, inviting you into my kitchen, my atrium, my life.

In the meantime, please continue to pray for me. I rely on your prayers. This has been, with careful measure, the worst week of my life, and I don’t know that the days to come will be any easier. Please hold me in your prayers, my children and Matt as well. God is so great, so good, so loving. In the midst of the darkness of sin and danger, I will praise Him, I will bless Him, I will seek His glory and his triumph and His grace. He is my Rock and my Salvation. He is my Glory and the Lifter of my head. He holds all things in his hand and in his love, and this Thing is not too big for Him to handle. And so, as I rely on Him and trust Him to show me the way through and sustain me, pray for me. Thank You. May the Lord Bless each one of you, even as He is pouring out His blessing on me, moment by moment.

Monday, July 09, 2007

The sun is beginning to set in a haze of heat. All five of us have been holed up in our bedroom, next to the air conditioner, reading all this mess online, catching up on email, the children playing with blocks and games and dressing up and eating Popsicles in an effort to stave off the heat. After a crazy week and a long Sunday, its been nice to have our feet up and have some quiet time, if not quiet for the spirit, at least quiet for the body.

Matt ran out and bought some tubs of Indian vegetable curry and we've heated up some divine samosas (sp?) from our neighbor AND, I'm gazing at a beautiful summery bouquet of flowers from a person who obviously knows what the soul needs on days like these. AND, another knowing person dropped off one of those super fancy cakes you can buy in the bakery section of Wegmans-the really beautiful one with all the fruit carefully arranged on top. I have read stories to the kids and Matt at this moment is praying for them and singing (Jesus Loves Me for Aedan, and the Sanctus for Emma-their choices). As soon as he has done that we are going to very quietly and happily cut into this cake and try to eat it so that no child will hear and interrupt us. And lest you think we're very evil to deny our children cake, that is certainly not the case. They have been sucking on large crab shaped lollipops all afternoon. That's enough sugar to last them through at least until tomorrow.

I wanted, in the closing of the day, one more time to say how thankful I am to all of you for your prayers and thoughts and all the wonderful things you've said about me and Matt. I know there are cries for a proper apology on Stand Firm, and here, but in my heart of hearts it really doesn't make a difference one way or another. I bear Ms. Kaeton no ill will whatsoever. Matt and I have chosen the hard narrow way of the cross with our eyes open. We've made sacrifices, financially, physically, and in a host of other ways, not because we're on some kind of crusade, but because we love the church, we love our kids, and we love the work we're doing. We couldn't fathom doing anything else.

So thank you.
Having said I was going to blog all day, I'm actually going to step back and not post anything for a while until I've had time to think and pray, both for myself and for Ms. Kaeton. I have half a post written about feminism, and some other bits I was working on, but its all going on the back shelf until things have cooled down. Thank you all for your prayers and comments and kind words. This is a very bizarre way to spend a regular Monday off.
Sunday Conversations
Matt: So what did you learn in Sunday school?
Aedan: We learned that the man had a stick and he hit the people with the stick, like this (demonstrates).
Matt: Stick? What stick was that?
Aedan: The man, he had a stick.
Emma: Pharaoh.
Aedan: Yeah. (Waves his hand) Let my people go.
Matt: Oh, so Pharaoh had a stick, and he hit the people?
Emma: Yeah, and then Jesus came and made frogs and locusts and a river of blood.
Anne: Jesus did that?
Emma: Yeah, it was Jesus. And the red river divided.
Matt: River or Sea?
Emma: River.
Aedan: Yeah, hit it with a stick, like this.
Anne: Was there anybody named Moses?
Emma: Moses?
Aedan: Yeah, and you shouldn’t kill the cow.
Matt: What cow?
Aedan: The cow, the cow.
Matt: Was there a mountain?
Emma: Yeah, a big mountain.
Matt: Was it called Mount Sinai.
Aedan: No (sarcastically) that’s silly. It was a big mountain.
Emma and Aedan drift off to do other things. Matt and Anne resolve to read the Exodus with them as a bed time story. I suppose, as I read this, that the cow must have been the golden calf. I’m still somewhat confused.
So I've been gazing back over my various posts from the last few weeks and the comments under each one, as well as the drama from last night and today, and I think there are three main issues that I would like to address.

1. Feminism and Men
2. Feminism and Children
3. Feminism and the Church

I don't propose to write long essays on these three points, and I don't think I have the linear wherewithal to deal with them one by one, but it might help to order my thinking, and perhaps yours, on the current crisis in which we find ourselves.

For example, when I stand next to Matt at the altar and turn the pages over for him as he prays the Eucharistic Prayer, or when I stand and pray the prayer and he rocks back and forth as if he has been rocking a baby all night, and mouths the prayer along with me, I think there are a variety of things going on.

For one thing, Christ is being made present as we raise our hands together in supplication. For another, Matt and I are unified again in our calling and purpose together as ministers of the Gospel. The unity that we experience and model on the altar would not be possible if either of us were arguing all the time about who gets to be in charge.

Break to get all the children Popsicles.
So first off I'd just like to link to a blog I check every day. The larger website is called Large Family Logistics and if you're interested in having lots of children, like the woman on this site, you can find all kinds of helpful information about how to run a household. But more than that, right now, her newest baby is in need (like so many) of much prayer, because he was born many weeks early and is needing very special attention and care. Every morning, after checking my email, Stand Firm and NRO's the Corner, I check to see how this baby is doing and pray for him.
For some reason, Blogger is not allowing me to put titles on Anything. I was wanting to post a big THANK YOU at the top of this, to all of you have commented on here and Stand Firm over the night, for all the prayers and kind words of support. In such situations as these, one doesn't particularly know how to respond, or even If one should do so, and I am very appreciative of the couple of admonitions to let unkind words lie on the ground, rather than to take them up. On the other hand, Ms. Kaeton speaks, in her post, about a variety of subjects that are important to me, and about which I have given much thought.

So, I thought, since I had been planning to have a whole day blogging anyway, that I would post on some of these issues and topics, and at the same time lift Ms. Kaeton up in prayer to God. And I would, also, like to pray for her grand daughter, who has, at such a young age, recognized one of the greatest riches of life-the great abundant rich gift of children.

So stayed tuned.

Sunday, July 08, 2007

I am taking the whole day off tomorrow to blog. This week has been a marathon run and I'm going to sleep. But for a taste of upcoming topics, go over to Stand Firm and read this.

Monday, July 02, 2007

the weather's cooling off, I might be able to blog...

The weather is cooler and I am gradually emerging from my funk. Today was downright chilly. I pulled a blanket over my expanding girth for my mid afternoon nap. I am so grateful even for just one day of cool, but it looks like tomorrow and the next day will be rain. So I praise and thank, as it were, the Lord.

And the cool is giving me a chance to think and reflect.
One such reflection is about Emma's recent adventures in dancing, which you can read about here.

Other things are mulling around in my head and hopefully will formulate themselves into posts as the hours, more likely days, go by.
For one thing, I am, in a vague way, trying to put words to answer Susan's questions about the Eucharist (technicality: don't know why all the comments don't show up unless you click on the full post, hmmm). For another, I've been thinking about terrorism and Islam, and this ridiculous Episcopal priest who appears to be confused about a number of things, the creed being one of them. And for another, I've been directing my thoughts back to the Atrium, and the spiritual life of the child, and what draws and sustains a child's relationship with God. I was giving a brief tour of my atrium this weekend and was asked, 'You light candles? In here?' and it hit me like a brick that yes, we do. We light loads of candles, and put them out and light them again. So, I am thinking about all these things, and wondering in a vague way where some paper or other I wrote in college is. It occurs to me that it was very badly written, and that the professor must have been a real drip to give me an A, which she did, and that I ought to go back and work it over and fix it. Just because. But instead of doing that, I will fold laundry, because if I don't do it now, before I go to sleep, all will be lost. ALL.