Saturday, March 30, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
my sermon from today
If you'd like to follow along in the bible we'll mainly be in John 18 and 19 but I'm going to quickly walk us through the events of Jesus' trial and execution using all four accounts.
So Jesus entered Jerusalem in triumph on Sunday and went straight to the Tempe to scope it out for the next day. On Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday he entered into serious conflict with the authorities and basically stirred the pot of conflict and anger against him all those three days. On Thursday, before the usual time to celebrate the Passover feast, Jesus joins with the 12 in the upper room to share that memorial meal, but also to teach the disciples, to institute the Eucharist, to wash their feet, to warn them about what was immediately ahead, and to pray his high priestly prayer--to, as we saw last night, love them to the end. It is during this meal that Satan enters into Judas and Jesus sends him away to do what he is going to do.
After the meal Jesus leads his disciples through Jerusalem. He takes his time. The washing of the feet, the sermon preached to his disciples at the Passover Meal and the prayer, in John, is 5 chapters long. If you account for the institution of the Eucharist, which John doesnt include, you have a considerable time in the upper room. Then the leisurely walk through the city. Then they go across the Kidron Valley to what John calls a garden. Jesus is taking his own sweet deliberate time.
Now, none of the other gospel writers call this place a garden. Mark and Matthew give the proper name of a particular place, Gesthemene. Luke use a more general and well known broader appellation, Mount of Olives. But John, using the unspecified, allows this garden to stand as a type, an opposite of another Garden standing at the beginning of time. In that garden the first man walked in the day, in the light, in beauty, in plenty, in peace, in joy. But, there in that garden, surrounded by everything his heart could desire, he chose to walk, and then, to stand, and to be comfortable, and to talk and carry on and commune with wickedness, with Satan. In a single moment, with no struggle, no thought even, he gave over his whole self, the whole earth and all of his children to death. Jesus comes into this second garden. Now it is night. Now there is struggle and pain. Instead of a moment we have a long difficult time. Rather than parlaying with Satan, Jesus seeks the face of his Father. He prays three times, perhaps in three hour blocks--can you not, he reproaches his sleeping friends, pray with me even one hour? In each hour of prayer his will bends more fully to the will of his father. Matthew records the movement in prayer. First, he asks that the cup might be removed. The second time of prayer, he shifts, if it cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done. The anti type of Adam who stood in conversation with Satan, no struggle, no hint of consideration and then reached out and took that which seemed good to him, Jesus struggles and prays and weeps and bends his will to accept the cup the father gives him.
And at night. All of this at night.
So what of Judas? What has he been up to?
Well, remember that the rulers and authorities had been trying to arrest Jesus for a while but had been unable to. It is a reasonable speculation that they have not made plans to kill Jesus at this time. There isnt time before the Passover. They are probably afraid of him--both his own power and his effect on the crowds. They are biding their time and considering what to do. But then who should come to them that night, in stealth, but Judas. They have already formed a relationship with this man, so close to Jesus, the holder of the money, for heavens sake, but still ready to betray and inform. Judas comes with interesting information. Jesus, he might have said, has just been talking about death. He seems to expect to die. He might be in an arrestable mood. Moreover, he is this moment on the Mount of Olives with only a few friends so there would be no crowd if they want to make an arrest without an outcry.
In the intervening hours of Jesus' meal and teaching, the prayer, the walk through Jerusalem, and then the hours of prayer in the garden, there have been rushed and wicked goings and comings across the city. Caiaphas had to get an arresting party together. He very possibly went himself to work a deal with Pilate that he would rubber stamp a capital punishment. He had to wake up the 71 strong Sanhedrin and get them ready to hear this case. He rousted his Father in Law, Annas, and got him ready to work. It is as though, with a word, with a will, the city leaps to do his will. The Lord determines the time and course of his death, and those who hate him most leap to obey.
As the preparations are completed, Jesus is confirmed in prayer. Angels come and minister to him, to strengthen him and comfort him. When he is ready, the arresting party arrives. He comes forward to meet them but, strangely, it seems like they don't know him. He asks them whom they they are looking for and instead of saying, 'you' they give his name, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus responds to them, the Greek is literally, 'I am'. It is possible he gave this name in Hebrew. That might explain why they draw back and fall to the ground. He has to ask them again who they seek, giving them time to recover themselves. He says again, I am, and then he commands that they let his friends go free. Notice they obey. Certainly they would have wanted to gather the disciples in as witnesses, but they let them go. The Lord stands, sovereign, his arresters obey.
In the chaos of the moment, Peter strikes out with his sword. Put it away, says Jesus to Peter. The flaming sword blocking the way into Eden, the Tree of Life, is sheathed. Jesus leaves the Garden resolutely, he is not driven away.
Once arrested, Jesus is taken to Annas, who ought to be High Priest but who isn't at this time, where he is illegally questioned directly. In Jewish law in the first century, the accused never had to speak out against himself. That his why Jesus says, 'why do you ask me? Ask those who heard me.' He is letting Annas know that he knows the law and will not testify against himself. From there he goes to Caiaphas. Caiaphas is the High Priest put in place by Rome. Here, in front of Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin many more laws are broken. Remember, they haven't had very much time to get themselves together, and so to execute Jesus before the Passover they are going to have to illegally try and convict him. The first illegality is that this part of the trial happens in the middle of the night. Trials were to be conducted in the day in order to avoid the appearance of injustice and evil. Secondly, there were very strict rules about who could be a witness and the job of the witness. In Matthew 26 we can see that the court wastes a lot of time trying to find witnesses. Legally, the witness of a crime was bound to arrest the perpetrator and then serve as the prosecutor in the trial. It then would fall to the Sanhedrin to either defend or find defenders for the accused. Here they can't find witnesses who agree and no one comes to Jesus' defense at all. Finally, it was illegal in Jewish law to convict with a unanimous vote. A unanimous vote bespoke mob emotion and rule, a court in which the accused could find no friend, no defender. The unanimous and therefore illegal vote to convict Jesus comes through a masterfully brilliant move on the part of Caiaphas. The High Priest was never to speak in a capital trial, such as this one, yet here, in desperation, he stands up and puts Jesus to the most sacred oath, the oath of the testimony, I adjure you by the living God, that he is not only the messiah, but also the Son of God. Alone, neither title is troublesome. Any Jewish person could claim to be the son of god in an ordinary sense, and the Jews expected a human political messiah, not a divine one. Taken together, the one interprets thr other and the one who takes them claims to be divine, of one substance with God. As a pious and true man, Jesus willingly takes the oath and strengthens it by reiterating the image in Daniel 7. Remember, he is not bound to speak, but he does. He willingly goes forward, step by step, to death. Caiaphas tears his robes and cries 'blasphemy'.
From there, in the early morning, Jesus is taken to Pilate. Here, there is good reason to believe that Caiaphas expects a rubber stamp for his night's work. This might be so because it seems like the Chief Priests are thrown into confusion by Pilate's questioning and try to appeal to their own goodness as a reason to proceed. Why would Pilate change his mind? During this same night, his wife has had a troubling dream about Jesus, and so Pilate, a weak and superstitious man, decides to try Jesus for true. John ironically notes that those who delivered Jesus to Pilate would not go in to Pilate's headquarters for fear of being defiled before the Passover. Having been caught off guard by Pilate's intention to hold a real trial they change the convicting charge from blasphemy, about which Pilate would not have cared, to sedition against Rome and not paying taxes.
Pilate questions Jesus from the temporal seat of judgment. But it is really he who is on trial before Jesus. He asks the questions and Jesus answers them, but the answers reveal the truth at the heart of the universe, that Jesus is king, the king who bears the truth, who witnesses to it, who embodies it. Pilate looks at the truth and flinches. 'What is truth' he asks. But he doesn't want to know. He takes Jesus back to the Jewish rulers and announces his innocence but the moment of reckoning found him a coward, so when the chief priests protest he sends Jesus to Herod. Herod is curious but cruel. When Jesus doesn't do tricks his soldiers beat and mock him. And send him back to Pilate.
Pilate's next attempt to free Jesus is to compare him with the most notoriously evil man in Jerusalem--Barabbas. The name Barabbas means 'son of a father'. He himself is a type, the worst of men, rightfully convicted of murder and sedition, in prison waiting to die. In a twist that seems to surprisePilate, the crowd chooses Barabbas and cries out for Jesus to die. Barabbas is a real man, an exchange is truly made--Jesus stands in the place of Barabbas and dies instead of him. The righteous man dying for the sinner. What happened bodily and visibly for Barabbas is what is offered to those of us who look on, some 2000 years later.
But Pilate still doesn't want to execute a good man, so he has Jesus flogged, hoping the gathering crowds will come to their senses in front of an obviously innocent and now broken man. His flesh torn, covered in blood, crowned in mockery and robed in contempt, Jesus is stood in front of the crowd. Pilate calls out 'Behold the man'. A man of sorrows, aquatinted the grief. Is there any sorrow like his sorrow? Any suffering like his? The crowd bays for his blood crying, 'blasphemy.'
Pilate is running out of time but he tries one more time to get Jesus speak and defend himself. What sort of person chooses to die? What sort of person goes all the way to suffering without crying out or trying to stop it? This person, Jesus, in his glory, in his power, is so steadfast, all of creation does his will, whether in hatred, fear, or in love. Finally, Pilate sits down in judgment seat, the Jewish Rulers before him, and Jesus. And he says this time, 'behold your king.' And then, in the moment of greatest irony, greatest tragedy, greatest truth, the chief priests cry out, 'we have no king but ceasar.'
And so Jesus is taken out to die. As thousands of lambs are that moment being slaughtered in the temple, the volume of blood so great flowing off the altar that it turns the stream running through Jerusalem red, Jesus is hung between two theives. In the final moments of his life, before he gives over his spirit, his own perfect blood flowing down to accomplish what not one single drop of lamb's blood can do, he says, 'it is finished'.
Done. Accomplished. Complete. The light came into the darkness and conquered he darkness, exposing the hearts of men, shining the truth into a world that doesn't struggle against the darkness, that walks and stands and sits in the way of wickedness, that would rather embrace the thing most hated then repent and turn around, that chooses fear over the truth. We live in this world. It is alive in our minds, in our hearts, it has corrupted our understanding. And yet here comes the man, behold him, he is the king, he comes forward, with power and glory and strength, not flinching, not running away. He comes and embraces the death that is our future. We, imprisoned by sin, like Barabbas, deserving to die, or, like Pilate, averting our eyes from the pain of the truth, or, like Caiaphas, grasping hold of our greatest hate in rejecting Jesus, or like Peter, denying him, or, like Judas, betraying him, we will ultimately obey the king. Yet he, lifted up, dying, his arms stretched out on the hard wood of the cross offers the chance for us to come in humility, love, repentance, willingly. And for those who come now, for those there is no longer any condemnation. The light of truth is married to the grace and mercy of love. Our Lord did this incredible thing out of love, not wanting that you should perish in the prison of your sin. The final people in this moment of greatest sorrow, whom we have not spoken of, looked up at the tree and lived. The thief next to Jesus. The disciple whom Jesus loved. His mother and the other women. I pray that you will leave here this afternoon having looked at the truth without flinching. That you will sit at the foot of the cross and love your Lord who loves you. That you will give yourself to him as completely, as steadfastly as he gave himself to you. If you are his then there is no condemnation, no sin, no darkness, no lie, no wickedness that can separate you from his love. Neither death, nor principalities, nor power can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Behold the man, your king, your God.
So Jesus entered Jerusalem in triumph on Sunday and went straight to the Tempe to scope it out for the next day. On Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday he entered into serious conflict with the authorities and basically stirred the pot of conflict and anger against him all those three days. On Thursday, before the usual time to celebrate the Passover feast, Jesus joins with the 12 in the upper room to share that memorial meal, but also to teach the disciples, to institute the Eucharist, to wash their feet, to warn them about what was immediately ahead, and to pray his high priestly prayer--to, as we saw last night, love them to the end. It is during this meal that Satan enters into Judas and Jesus sends him away to do what he is going to do.
After the meal Jesus leads his disciples through Jerusalem. He takes his time. The washing of the feet, the sermon preached to his disciples at the Passover Meal and the prayer, in John, is 5 chapters long. If you account for the institution of the Eucharist, which John doesnt include, you have a considerable time in the upper room. Then the leisurely walk through the city. Then they go across the Kidron Valley to what John calls a garden. Jesus is taking his own sweet deliberate time.
Now, none of the other gospel writers call this place a garden. Mark and Matthew give the proper name of a particular place, Gesthemene. Luke use a more general and well known broader appellation, Mount of Olives. But John, using the unspecified, allows this garden to stand as a type, an opposite of another Garden standing at the beginning of time. In that garden the first man walked in the day, in the light, in beauty, in plenty, in peace, in joy. But, there in that garden, surrounded by everything his heart could desire, he chose to walk, and then, to stand, and to be comfortable, and to talk and carry on and commune with wickedness, with Satan. In a single moment, with no struggle, no thought even, he gave over his whole self, the whole earth and all of his children to death. Jesus comes into this second garden. Now it is night. Now there is struggle and pain. Instead of a moment we have a long difficult time. Rather than parlaying with Satan, Jesus seeks the face of his Father. He prays three times, perhaps in three hour blocks--can you not, he reproaches his sleeping friends, pray with me even one hour? In each hour of prayer his will bends more fully to the will of his father. Matthew records the movement in prayer. First, he asks that the cup might be removed. The second time of prayer, he shifts, if it cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done. The anti type of Adam who stood in conversation with Satan, no struggle, no hint of consideration and then reached out and took that which seemed good to him, Jesus struggles and prays and weeps and bends his will to accept the cup the father gives him.
And at night. All of this at night.
So what of Judas? What has he been up to?
Well, remember that the rulers and authorities had been trying to arrest Jesus for a while but had been unable to. It is a reasonable speculation that they have not made plans to kill Jesus at this time. There isnt time before the Passover. They are probably afraid of him--both his own power and his effect on the crowds. They are biding their time and considering what to do. But then who should come to them that night, in stealth, but Judas. They have already formed a relationship with this man, so close to Jesus, the holder of the money, for heavens sake, but still ready to betray and inform. Judas comes with interesting information. Jesus, he might have said, has just been talking about death. He seems to expect to die. He might be in an arrestable mood. Moreover, he is this moment on the Mount of Olives with only a few friends so there would be no crowd if they want to make an arrest without an outcry.
In the intervening hours of Jesus' meal and teaching, the prayer, the walk through Jerusalem, and then the hours of prayer in the garden, there have been rushed and wicked goings and comings across the city. Caiaphas had to get an arresting party together. He very possibly went himself to work a deal with Pilate that he would rubber stamp a capital punishment. He had to wake up the 71 strong Sanhedrin and get them ready to hear this case. He rousted his Father in Law, Annas, and got him ready to work. It is as though, with a word, with a will, the city leaps to do his will. The Lord determines the time and course of his death, and those who hate him most leap to obey.
As the preparations are completed, Jesus is confirmed in prayer. Angels come and minister to him, to strengthen him and comfort him. When he is ready, the arresting party arrives. He comes forward to meet them but, strangely, it seems like they don't know him. He asks them whom they they are looking for and instead of saying, 'you' they give his name, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus responds to them, the Greek is literally, 'I am'. It is possible he gave this name in Hebrew. That might explain why they draw back and fall to the ground. He has to ask them again who they seek, giving them time to recover themselves. He says again, I am, and then he commands that they let his friends go free. Notice they obey. Certainly they would have wanted to gather the disciples in as witnesses, but they let them go. The Lord stands, sovereign, his arresters obey.
In the chaos of the moment, Peter strikes out with his sword. Put it away, says Jesus to Peter. The flaming sword blocking the way into Eden, the Tree of Life, is sheathed. Jesus leaves the Garden resolutely, he is not driven away.
Once arrested, Jesus is taken to Annas, who ought to be High Priest but who isn't at this time, where he is illegally questioned directly. In Jewish law in the first century, the accused never had to speak out against himself. That his why Jesus says, 'why do you ask me? Ask those who heard me.' He is letting Annas know that he knows the law and will not testify against himself. From there he goes to Caiaphas. Caiaphas is the High Priest put in place by Rome. Here, in front of Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin many more laws are broken. Remember, they haven't had very much time to get themselves together, and so to execute Jesus before the Passover they are going to have to illegally try and convict him. The first illegality is that this part of the trial happens in the middle of the night. Trials were to be conducted in the day in order to avoid the appearance of injustice and evil. Secondly, there were very strict rules about who could be a witness and the job of the witness. In Matthew 26 we can see that the court wastes a lot of time trying to find witnesses. Legally, the witness of a crime was bound to arrest the perpetrator and then serve as the prosecutor in the trial. It then would fall to the Sanhedrin to either defend or find defenders for the accused. Here they can't find witnesses who agree and no one comes to Jesus' defense at all. Finally, it was illegal in Jewish law to convict with a unanimous vote. A unanimous vote bespoke mob emotion and rule, a court in which the accused could find no friend, no defender. The unanimous and therefore illegal vote to convict Jesus comes through a masterfully brilliant move on the part of Caiaphas. The High Priest was never to speak in a capital trial, such as this one, yet here, in desperation, he stands up and puts Jesus to the most sacred oath, the oath of the testimony, I adjure you by the living God, that he is not only the messiah, but also the Son of God. Alone, neither title is troublesome. Any Jewish person could claim to be the son of god in an ordinary sense, and the Jews expected a human political messiah, not a divine one. Taken together, the one interprets thr other and the one who takes them claims to be divine, of one substance with God. As a pious and true man, Jesus willingly takes the oath and strengthens it by reiterating the image in Daniel 7. Remember, he is not bound to speak, but he does. He willingly goes forward, step by step, to death. Caiaphas tears his robes and cries 'blasphemy'.
From there, in the early morning, Jesus is taken to Pilate. Here, there is good reason to believe that Caiaphas expects a rubber stamp for his night's work. This might be so because it seems like the Chief Priests are thrown into confusion by Pilate's questioning and try to appeal to their own goodness as a reason to proceed. Why would Pilate change his mind? During this same night, his wife has had a troubling dream about Jesus, and so Pilate, a weak and superstitious man, decides to try Jesus for true. John ironically notes that those who delivered Jesus to Pilate would not go in to Pilate's headquarters for fear of being defiled before the Passover. Having been caught off guard by Pilate's intention to hold a real trial they change the convicting charge from blasphemy, about which Pilate would not have cared, to sedition against Rome and not paying taxes.
Pilate questions Jesus from the temporal seat of judgment. But it is really he who is on trial before Jesus. He asks the questions and Jesus answers them, but the answers reveal the truth at the heart of the universe, that Jesus is king, the king who bears the truth, who witnesses to it, who embodies it. Pilate looks at the truth and flinches. 'What is truth' he asks. But he doesn't want to know. He takes Jesus back to the Jewish rulers and announces his innocence but the moment of reckoning found him a coward, so when the chief priests protest he sends Jesus to Herod. Herod is curious but cruel. When Jesus doesn't do tricks his soldiers beat and mock him. And send him back to Pilate.
Pilate's next attempt to free Jesus is to compare him with the most notoriously evil man in Jerusalem--Barabbas. The name Barabbas means 'son of a father'. He himself is a type, the worst of men, rightfully convicted of murder and sedition, in prison waiting to die. In a twist that seems to surprisePilate, the crowd chooses Barabbas and cries out for Jesus to die. Barabbas is a real man, an exchange is truly made--Jesus stands in the place of Barabbas and dies instead of him. The righteous man dying for the sinner. What happened bodily and visibly for Barabbas is what is offered to those of us who look on, some 2000 years later.
But Pilate still doesn't want to execute a good man, so he has Jesus flogged, hoping the gathering crowds will come to their senses in front of an obviously innocent and now broken man. His flesh torn, covered in blood, crowned in mockery and robed in contempt, Jesus is stood in front of the crowd. Pilate calls out 'Behold the man'. A man of sorrows, aquatinted the grief. Is there any sorrow like his sorrow? Any suffering like his? The crowd bays for his blood crying, 'blasphemy.'
Pilate is running out of time but he tries one more time to get Jesus speak and defend himself. What sort of person chooses to die? What sort of person goes all the way to suffering without crying out or trying to stop it? This person, Jesus, in his glory, in his power, is so steadfast, all of creation does his will, whether in hatred, fear, or in love. Finally, Pilate sits down in judgment seat, the Jewish Rulers before him, and Jesus. And he says this time, 'behold your king.' And then, in the moment of greatest irony, greatest tragedy, greatest truth, the chief priests cry out, 'we have no king but ceasar.'
And so Jesus is taken out to die. As thousands of lambs are that moment being slaughtered in the temple, the volume of blood so great flowing off the altar that it turns the stream running through Jerusalem red, Jesus is hung between two theives. In the final moments of his life, before he gives over his spirit, his own perfect blood flowing down to accomplish what not one single drop of lamb's blood can do, he says, 'it is finished'.
Done. Accomplished. Complete. The light came into the darkness and conquered he darkness, exposing the hearts of men, shining the truth into a world that doesn't struggle against the darkness, that walks and stands and sits in the way of wickedness, that would rather embrace the thing most hated then repent and turn around, that chooses fear over the truth. We live in this world. It is alive in our minds, in our hearts, it has corrupted our understanding. And yet here comes the man, behold him, he is the king, he comes forward, with power and glory and strength, not flinching, not running away. He comes and embraces the death that is our future. We, imprisoned by sin, like Barabbas, deserving to die, or, like Pilate, averting our eyes from the pain of the truth, or, like Caiaphas, grasping hold of our greatest hate in rejecting Jesus, or like Peter, denying him, or, like Judas, betraying him, we will ultimately obey the king. Yet he, lifted up, dying, his arms stretched out on the hard wood of the cross offers the chance for us to come in humility, love, repentance, willingly. And for those who come now, for those there is no longer any condemnation. The light of truth is married to the grace and mercy of love. Our Lord did this incredible thing out of love, not wanting that you should perish in the prison of your sin. The final people in this moment of greatest sorrow, whom we have not spoken of, looked up at the tree and lived. The thief next to Jesus. The disciple whom Jesus loved. His mother and the other women. I pray that you will leave here this afternoon having looked at the truth without flinching. That you will sit at the foot of the cross and love your Lord who loves you. That you will give yourself to him as completely, as steadfastly as he gave himself to you. If you are his then there is no condemnation, no sin, no darkness, no lie, no wickedness that can separate you from his love. Neither death, nor principalities, nor power can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Behold the man, your king, your God.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
a week to think about Jesus and get really really tired
Holy Week is upon us!
Yesterday we celebrated the Last Supper together in Sunday School. It means everyone taking the name of a disciple or hanger on (because we have more than exactly thirteen people in Sunday School--isn't that great! This year I passed out names like Zaccheus and Nichodemus and, I won't lie, a couple of women, like Mary and Salome. But I made my usual big speech about there not being any women there except maybe to serve and cook the food.) and assigning someone to be Jesus and then sending Peter on John on ahead to prepare....
and then sitting around and eating matzo and grape juice mixed with apple juice. Jesus has to read the words of institution but after that its a total free for all for conversation. This year the little girls all took turns standing up and breaking the bread, or really shattering it every where. And the bigger boys tried very hard to start a food fight but unfortunately were inhibited at ever turn by the phalanx of adults on every side. A good time was had by all, even though many tried hard to cry about Jesus going on from there to die.
So now we're in full Holy Week hysteria.
I wrote down everything that I think I know for sure will be happening and then let Matt try to teach me the Texas Two Step. But the baby always takes grave offense whenever anyone tries to dance without her so we ended up having to just sit and cry for a while. Well, I wasn't crying. Yet. Check back in a few days.
Yesterday we celebrated the Last Supper together in Sunday School. It means everyone taking the name of a disciple or hanger on (because we have more than exactly thirteen people in Sunday School--isn't that great! This year I passed out names like Zaccheus and Nichodemus and, I won't lie, a couple of women, like Mary and Salome. But I made my usual big speech about there not being any women there except maybe to serve and cook the food.) and assigning someone to be Jesus and then sending Peter on John on ahead to prepare....
and then sitting around and eating matzo and grape juice mixed with apple juice. Jesus has to read the words of institution but after that its a total free for all for conversation. This year the little girls all took turns standing up and breaking the bread, or really shattering it every where. And the bigger boys tried very hard to start a food fight but unfortunately were inhibited at ever turn by the phalanx of adults on every side. A good time was had by all, even though many tried hard to cry about Jesus going on from there to die.
So now we're in full Holy Week hysteria.
I wrote down everything that I think I know for sure will be happening and then let Matt try to teach me the Texas Two Step. But the baby always takes grave offense whenever anyone tries to dance without her so we ended up having to just sit and cry for a while. Well, I wasn't crying. Yet. Check back in a few days.
Friday, March 22, 2013
plain old anglican snark
As I was lying face down on the couch yesterday listening to one child read Dinosaurs Before Dawn, giving a spelling test and checking over some math, I also watched a tiny bit of the new ABC Enthronment. I came in on it as the last lesson before the gospel was read and figured I'd had enough as the gifts from around the world were being laid on the altar-- so essentially, I heard some hymns, saw the African dancing, heard the sermon, and did not by any means miss out on the exceptionally weird voice of the woman inducting Welby into the pulpit/see of Canterbury. Well, it's a stretch to say I actually heard the sermon (see above), a few lines washed over me.And I must say, after a decade of watching liberal/episco-Unitarian white boomers pander liturgically to the rest of the true believing world--swaying back and forth and clapping ineffectually, or raising the hands to the latest Native American wind--I am frankly grossed out by all the showcased ethnicity. Archbishop Welby in no wise was made to look more believing or relevant by the dancing and singing. Taken together with his "sermon" (I think scare quotes are more than appropriate), the liturgically enshrined ethnicity showed a hollow husk of a church that once brought the truth into the darkness of a world broken by sin and death, but now is just dancing around in the dark, clapping to songs of a light it doesn't know or understand. So the "sermon". I expect some were really happy that the new ABC was so bold as to say both "Jesus" and "Christ" in church. I used to be one of those people--pathetically grateful that the sermon wasn't about cloning or the Buddha. And he even noted that we should be "reconciled" to God through the cross. But here's the tiny little problem. None of those words mean anything any more. "Reconciled" doesn't indicate the cross to anyone who hears the word any more. It just means that God won't mind whatever we do as long as we agree to women bishops and gay marriage. Those are the two things He, God, really cares about now, and so it's no problem for all the world to be "reconciled" to him. Except if you really believe the old worn out word, "reconciled", can only be applied to the person who dies to himself and clings to Jesus and the cross. No less a Jesus who joins with the Father in wroth against the marrying of one man to another and two women together. If you believe in that Jesus, so much so that you're not willing to play the game, then no reconciliation for you. So color me bored by the sermon. And irritated by the cheesy 'Christ Believing Courage' or whatever it was that his Grace applied to institutions like the NHS along with other so called Christian items, none of which I can remember at the moment. I'm sorry, but societal stability is not what Jesus is most worried about in the year 2013. If you want to know what's really on his mind, your going to have to flip open the electronic device of your choice and dig around for an app called t.h.e b.i.b.l.e and then you have to touch it with with the soft pad of your finger and then touch the little audio play icon in the corner and then try very hard to pry your eyes open and your ears and listen to all the amazing things it says, without your fingers crossed behind your back. All the way through, starting at the beginning and going all the way to the end--not just the lectionary readings. And when you don't understand something you might open a book or get on the Internet or talk to a real c.h.r.i.s.t.i.a.n. But if you don't want to know, just keep doing what you're doing because its working really really well.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
teeth etc.
I happened to be back at the dentist yesterday and the poor state of my poor mouth is rather taking up all the emotional space in my life. I am now on an antibiotic with all kinds of warning labels all over it and I have a tiny special paper explaining where and at what time I am expected to present myself to the Very Special Person who does Root Canals.
'There is life after a root canal,' said my dentist yesterday, 'the name sounds worse than it is.'
'Indeed,' said I, in pain, 'it sounds medieval.'
But at this point I welcome the whole experience if it will really solve the problem.
But also, I was knocked back by the first rather strong antibiotic and so this new one makes me feel even more like everything, good and bad, is being destroyed in my already run down system.
Nevertheless, I will now arise and do school and make breakfast and do laundry. And I will do it all without barely speaking because that is too painful for anything.
'There is life after a root canal,' said my dentist yesterday, 'the name sounds worse than it is.'
'Indeed,' said I, in pain, 'it sounds medieval.'
But at this point I welcome the whole experience if it will really solve the problem.
But also, I was knocked back by the first rather strong antibiotic and so this new one makes me feel even more like everything, good and bad, is being destroyed in my already run down system.
Nevertheless, I will now arise and do school and make breakfast and do laundry. And I will do it all without barely speaking because that is too painful for anything.
Monday, March 18, 2013
oh look, it's snowing again
The dog is asleep on his back with his feet in the air and his teeth all out there. Also, he is on my lap. There is one baby upstairs asleep but the other one is jammed up against me snoring. Alouicious and Elphine are 'trying to earn back their allowance' by cleaning the kitchen, but really they are goofing off and talking. Romulus and Gladys are 'cleaning the sunroom'. All around me are piles of laundry I imagined I would do, along with shoes and bottles and bits of paper and toys and crayons and a lot of other...stuff is too nice a word. Matt is watching some thing about Scientology.And, of course, there is a heavy volume of snow falling out of the sky. Because what a fading upstate town exhausted by sickness and cold weather needs is more snow, and ice. I'm sorry that this blog has degenerated into one big long complaint about the weather. I'm generally a satisfied, happy, contentish type of person. Well, maybe happy is too strong. Not unhappy. But the long stupid snowy winter is proving too much for me today. We're all on our eleventh cold amongst other irritating ailments. Amd the walls are too close, the bickering too continuous, the pile of cleaning and laundry too tall. If only the snow would stick to the brick wall of the church. Otherwise, for real, I'm going to get out there and paint an Italian villa on it.
Friday, March 15, 2013
7 quick takes: church
one
I happen to be reading Exodus and Romans at the same time--not a bad combination. Boy I really do feel for Moses. His whole life sounds like one endless dinner hour with cranky kids. Yesterday my kids decided not to really eat their lunch and so by dinner the cry was, 'I'm dying!' Except that then when the dinner was served (my week at Shepherd's Bowl so lentil curry a la kennedy) they found they were really only hungry for the bread and cookie and I was suddenly entangled in three or four whiny and complicated negotiations. After a while I did really feel like shaking my fist at the heavens and saying, 'why have you given me this ungrateful people....' On another partially related note, I'm deeply interested in the idea of an Egyptian Meat Pot. It sounds delicious.
two
I had thought I would be laboring over my curry kennedy with a numb and painful mouth but in a happy twist I was sent away from the dentist with a powerful antibiotic and arrangements to try again next week. Wanted to ask the dentist if she was at all concerned by the terrifying super bacterias coming along and What Would We All Do Then, ha ha, but just kept a lid on it and said thank you.
three
As the afternoon wore away and the curry melded in to the onion, garlic, peppers, sweet potato, lentils, chickpeas etc. I glanced at my phone and discovered that this relationship is finally over. So grateful. Evil, don't you know, always seems to over step. Really, John Crosson is the outside limit. So grateful.
four
Have also been reading lots of catholic blogs trying to discover if this new pope will be A Good Thing. Can't really tell yet. Boy some people are already really upset. On the other hand it is so great that he looks so much like the new ABC...and Woody Allen.
five
It's nearly Holy Week. Did you know? Have you been making plans? Yeah, me neither.
six
Matt thought he'd be at the passion in Mark by now (in church, he's preaching through Mark). Isn't that funny? Funny funny funny. Srsly, if you are struggling to love the bible or had the book of Mark destroyed for you in seminary, I can't recommend enough his whole series so far. Week by week he unfolds the scripture and brings the person of Jesus into such clear focus. If you have nothing else to do in Holy Week you could lie flat on top of a lot of sicko John Crosson/Jesus Seminar books and listen to Matt preach and be healed of all your various infirmities. For, as Alouicious noted earlier, 'preaching heals the greatest wound, which is not knowing Jesus.'
seven
Don't you just love church? I think I love Holy Week so much because there's just so much church. So much preaching, so much liturgy, so many times to set up the altar, so many things to veil, so many details, so many extra days to see people. In my wildest deems, if you had asked in high school or college what I wanted to do if I could do anything in the whole world, I would have thought (though not said it out loud, because that would have been freaky) 'I want to be in church.' See God can be nice, sometimes.
I happen to be reading Exodus and Romans at the same time--not a bad combination. Boy I really do feel for Moses. His whole life sounds like one endless dinner hour with cranky kids. Yesterday my kids decided not to really eat their lunch and so by dinner the cry was, 'I'm dying!' Except that then when the dinner was served (my week at Shepherd's Bowl so lentil curry a la kennedy) they found they were really only hungry for the bread and cookie and I was suddenly entangled in three or four whiny and complicated negotiations. After a while I did really feel like shaking my fist at the heavens and saying, 'why have you given me this ungrateful people....' On another partially related note, I'm deeply interested in the idea of an Egyptian Meat Pot. It sounds delicious.
two
I had thought I would be laboring over my curry kennedy with a numb and painful mouth but in a happy twist I was sent away from the dentist with a powerful antibiotic and arrangements to try again next week. Wanted to ask the dentist if she was at all concerned by the terrifying super bacterias coming along and What Would We All Do Then, ha ha, but just kept a lid on it and said thank you.
three
As the afternoon wore away and the curry melded in to the onion, garlic, peppers, sweet potato, lentils, chickpeas etc. I glanced at my phone and discovered that this relationship is finally over. So grateful. Evil, don't you know, always seems to over step. Really, John Crosson is the outside limit. So grateful.
four
Have also been reading lots of catholic blogs trying to discover if this new pope will be A Good Thing. Can't really tell yet. Boy some people are already really upset. On the other hand it is so great that he looks so much like the new ABC...and Woody Allen.
five
It's nearly Holy Week. Did you know? Have you been making plans? Yeah, me neither.
six
Matt thought he'd be at the passion in Mark by now (in church, he's preaching through Mark). Isn't that funny? Funny funny funny. Srsly, if you are struggling to love the bible or had the book of Mark destroyed for you in seminary, I can't recommend enough his whole series so far. Week by week he unfolds the scripture and brings the person of Jesus into such clear focus. If you have nothing else to do in Holy Week you could lie flat on top of a lot of sicko John Crosson/Jesus Seminar books and listen to Matt preach and be healed of all your various infirmities. For, as Alouicious noted earlier, 'preaching heals the greatest wound, which is not knowing Jesus.'
seven
Don't you just love church? I think I love Holy Week so much because there's just so much church. So much preaching, so much liturgy, so many times to set up the altar, so many things to veil, so many details, so many extra days to see people. In my wildest deems, if you had asked in high school or college what I wanted to do if I could do anything in the whole world, I would have thought (though not said it out loud, because that would have been freaky) 'I want to be in church.' See God can be nice, sometimes.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
emerging
Slowly.
Slowly emerging.
We had some lovely visitors. Stand Firm Family, as it were. All the lovely pictures are on Matt's computer. And you know how it is. You have to go to that computer and sit down and turn it on and go to the Internet and laboriously send the pictures on email and then open them and so on and so forth...so I don't have pictures, yet...
And then we were all sick. Horribly and wretchedly sick. The tummy thing. The head, nose and throat thing. The Maybe I'm Actually Going To Die Thing. The Anne Has To Go Grocery Shopping Alone Thing.
But in spite of everyone still not really breathing, there is an imperceptible feeling that Things Are Looking Up. Elphine and Alouicious have plugged out two full days of school cheerfully and industriously. Upon examining everyone's school work I discovered that if we work really really really hard for the next ten weeks we might really finish all our work on the day I imagined we would. Praise be.
I've endured the dentist visit that worried me the most--the one wherein I expected to be told I needed a root canal. After a great deal of suffering and pain I was told that I still have a thin but real amount of tooth before the root and so, for today, I am spared. Tomorrow I go back to have the big gaping hole in a tooth coped with. Turns out there is a real and true reason for me to be in such pain I have to take no less than 9 ibuprofen over the course of 24 hours. And then one more visit after that and I will be in the category of Normal, Basically.
My little tiny tomato and pepper seedlings are coming up and have not yet been destroyed by the 'babies'. They're actually large little girls who go around chattering and holding hands. They play with dollies and dress up and color and have their hair brushed. And if they would sleep all the way through the night we would probably like them.
As for Gladys and Romulus, they do a generous amount of whining and tattling.
On the whole a good measure, shaken tighter, pressed down, flowing over...
And then today we watched the white smoke appear and rejoiced with so many who welcomed the new Pope. Well, I won't lie, Elphine and Alouicious were horribly sarcastic about the news coverage...and wanted to snarkily debate theology. But I finally told them to go away so I could watch it all in peace.
And now I'm listening to them all clean the kitchen and bicker gently. So I think I'll have another glass of something, just to be sure.
Pip pip.
Slowly emerging.
We had some lovely visitors. Stand Firm Family, as it were. All the lovely pictures are on Matt's computer. And you know how it is. You have to go to that computer and sit down and turn it on and go to the Internet and laboriously send the pictures on email and then open them and so on and so forth...so I don't have pictures, yet...
And then we were all sick. Horribly and wretchedly sick. The tummy thing. The head, nose and throat thing. The Maybe I'm Actually Going To Die Thing. The Anne Has To Go Grocery Shopping Alone Thing.
But in spite of everyone still not really breathing, there is an imperceptible feeling that Things Are Looking Up. Elphine and Alouicious have plugged out two full days of school cheerfully and industriously. Upon examining everyone's school work I discovered that if we work really really really hard for the next ten weeks we might really finish all our work on the day I imagined we would. Praise be.
I've endured the dentist visit that worried me the most--the one wherein I expected to be told I needed a root canal. After a great deal of suffering and pain I was told that I still have a thin but real amount of tooth before the root and so, for today, I am spared. Tomorrow I go back to have the big gaping hole in a tooth coped with. Turns out there is a real and true reason for me to be in such pain I have to take no less than 9 ibuprofen over the course of 24 hours. And then one more visit after that and I will be in the category of Normal, Basically.
My little tiny tomato and pepper seedlings are coming up and have not yet been destroyed by the 'babies'. They're actually large little girls who go around chattering and holding hands. They play with dollies and dress up and color and have their hair brushed. And if they would sleep all the way through the night we would probably like them.
As for Gladys and Romulus, they do a generous amount of whining and tattling.
On the whole a good measure, shaken tighter, pressed down, flowing over...
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
sometimes they sort of get it
Gladys wrote another poem this morning. She was irritating me a lot just at that moment, what with the complaining and whining and general sense of total dissatisfaction with reality. I thought maybe if I wrote it down for her she would stop with the whining, which turned out not to be the case. Basically the age of five I have never found to be awesome. Anyway, here is the text of the poem followed by the frame and picture she drew around the original copy. I'll write her commentary of the picture underneath it.
The Bible
By Gladys
3/6/2013
An Angel appeared to Mary and said, "Mary, you are going to have a baby.
You are going to call him Jesus."
And so Jesus grew up and his name was God.
And Satan disguised as a serpent came into Adam's hand and said some bad things about God.
And then he crawled out of Adam's hand so that Adam ate the fruit off the tree; and Eve did too.
You can see Mary with extremely long hair leaning over Jesus to pick him up out of the manger and take him out to show visitors. The other sort of large thing in the air next to her is a lamp. Cowering in the corner at the bottom are Adam and Eve and the serpent who, to me, looks remarkably like a platypus. The top is framed by a sun and two lamps that I thought looked like bees, but I was wrong. I love how towering Mary and Jesus are.
Saturday, March 02, 2013
hope
Yesterday the remains of last summer's sun flowers in my back garden were pecked over by a couple of those lovely little fat birds that figure so romantically in all the Tasha Tudor books. Do you know, the three waves of guilt that tidal-ed themselves over me were, in order,
Why can't I remember the names of those little birds?!
Why am I not calling a child over here to look at them!?
And
Why haven't I pulled out the Tasha Tudor books? There they are, but I'm the only one who knows what's in them.
But I just stood there and watched the birds and then went and did laundry.
So spring must be coming. Even though the snow is constantly swirling and the sun room heater slowing dying from over use. And with spring, mud. And with mud, the bulbs coming up. And then the summery little Easter dresses that have the be worn with a heavy winter coat. And also, new Alleluia Cards for the atrium.
Why can't I remember the names of those little birds?!
Why am I not calling a child over here to look at them!?
And
Why haven't I pulled out the Tasha Tudor books? There they are, but I'm the only one who knows what's in them.
But I just stood there and watched the birds and then went and did laundry.
So spring must be coming. Even though the snow is constantly swirling and the sun room heater slowing dying from over use. And with spring, mud. And with mud, the bulbs coming up. And then the summery little Easter dresses that have the be worn with a heavy winter coat. And also, new Alleluia Cards for the atrium.
Friday, March 01, 2013
7 quick takes
Well, here it is. Friday. And I haven't blogged or done much of anything interesting except
one
cope with the laundry room. I mean, really really deal with actually doing the laundry, folding the clothes and putting stuff in bins that's just in the way.
two
Start to make sour dough bread again but this time fail so much as to actually end up throwing it away.
three
Take three days off from school for six children to have the stomach bug. One after another all the way down the line.
four
Obsessively read the Internet as disfunction in the anglican communion hots up again.
five
Get out the blender and make smoothies for the first time in ten years trying to tempt a lot of pallid and emaciated children to swallow something.
six
Watch another 80s movie with Matt.
seven
Walk up the hill behind the house in between weather onslaughts and find myself thereafter bathing and cutting all the hair off my dog for reasons too vile to write down or remember later.
Have a great weekend and go check out Jen!
one
cope with the laundry room. I mean, really really deal with actually doing the laundry, folding the clothes and putting stuff in bins that's just in the way.
two
Start to make sour dough bread again but this time fail so much as to actually end up throwing it away.
three
Take three days off from school for six children to have the stomach bug. One after another all the way down the line.
four
Obsessively read the Internet as disfunction in the anglican communion hots up again.
five
Get out the blender and make smoothies for the first time in ten years trying to tempt a lot of pallid and emaciated children to swallow something.
six
Watch another 80s movie with Matt.
seven
Walk up the hill behind the house in between weather onslaughts and find myself thereafter bathing and cutting all the hair off my dog for reasons too vile to write down or remember later.
Monday, February 25, 2013
more complaining about the weather
Can't believe it's nearly March. Can't believe how unrelentingly grey and cold it is outside. Irritated that the children take off their coats when they get into the cold car because they are so afraid of being "too hot". They wander around the house in t shirts and shorts and open the door wide open to see 'how warm it is'. Matt, after asking me what the weather would be like all week and hearing that it would be largely cold with snow flurries but no accumulation said, 'oh, that's good. Just so long as there's not too much sun and snow' as if he is an alien from some other place.
Then my mother posted this picture on Facebook.
Because its summer all the way over there and there were so many in her garden that she had enough to cut.
I, on the other hand, am several weeks late starting my tomatoes and peppers. Not sure where I'm going to put them to keep them from destruction and mayhem.
Then my mother posted this picture on Facebook.
Because its summer all the way over there and there were so many in her garden that she had enough to cut.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
early adventures in sourdough
Being rather a creature of habit it takes an act of God, or the valiant shoving of a friend (not that those are necessarily different) to get me to do new or different things. In this case I have been making bread in exactly the same way for about 14 years--the precise way my dad showed me when I was at the point of wanting to make bread. Well, I mean, of course, I've made adjustments--mainly on the size of the loaves and how often I make it and how lazy I'm being. So basically I have had no interest in the no rise excitement, even though it would mean buying new kitchen equipment, or any other excitement that requires thought and change.
But my friend arranged herself comfortably in my living room and bestowed something that looked like this
upon me.
And so what could I do but make a big fat chart of when to add flour and water and when to add salt and when to start the whole process all over again and spend the week fussing over it.
And do you know? Not only is it not too hard, it feels all pioneering and all grid-fail-exciting. And it's been a great providential blessing because I am, as Marigold would say, Actually all out of My Own Yeast. So there you are. An Adventure, as it were. Maybe later I'll post about how I've already been cheating, but don't get too hopeful. I'll probably just do something else.
But my friend arranged herself comfortably in my living room and bestowed something that looked like this
upon me.
And so what could I do but make a big fat chart of when to add flour and water and when to add salt and when to start the whole process all over again and spend the week fussing over it.
And do you know? Not only is it not too hard, it feels all pioneering and all grid-fail-exciting. And it's been a great providential blessing because I am, as Marigold would say, Actually all out of My Own Yeast. So there you are. An Adventure, as it were. Maybe later I'll post about how I've already been cheating, but don't get too hopeful. I'll probably just do something else.
Monday, February 18, 2013
loyalty
So many sensible people are giving up Facebook and other Things Like That for Lent that I've been vaguely unsettled that it never occurred to me to pursue such a course. I do spend a fair amount of time online but its pretty concentrated to particular moments in the day and for particular purposes. I would never categorize myself as Needing To Give It Up.
Anyway, my real guilt lies not in the amount of time online nor in the substance of what I'm reading/viewing, but rather in the deep sense of betrayal I feel I have committed against my, as Marigold would say, Own Wittle Waptop--the laptop given to me, no less, by Matt after Gladys poured tea on the lovely little white one. This current laptop was the smallest and fastest he could find, purchased by him out of love and necessity. I have taken it everywhere, done everything that needed doing--blogging, editing pictures, reading books, watching movies, beating the children off my back from thinking they could touch it at all....
until, a few days after Christmas, I found myself holding in my own hands an itsy teeny wittle iPad mini with a bright soft red cover. I have been rapturously in love all these weeks without thought or care (you know that love--the loss of thought for self, the floating around on clouds of euphoria--or something like that anyway) until a sharp pang of guilt and disloyalty swept over me last night as I heard myself say to Alouicious, 'Sure, you can play a game on my laptop. Just don't carry it all over the house. Try to stay in one place.' Even now, as I sit here laboring away on this little tiny iPad keyboard, my laptop carefully hidden behind a tower of books and paper, averting my mind's eye from its reproachful smudgy presence, the guilt and love roll mingled down into rationalization. 'The children can use the laptop for school.' 'It will be so much safer now, me leaving it in one Central Location and it being used as needed for Educational Purposes.'
Still, this little tablet is such a pleasure to use. Matt and I have synced (is that even a word) our calendars so that we are no longer shocked and horrified by the unfolding discovery of the other person's day. I have been listening to an interesting array of books read to me by people who took the time to read them out loud. Marigold has been playing Bob with the Bob Book app. I won't list everything. You might go away and do something else besides reading the Internet, a true tragedy. But so that I don't find I need to Give It Up Entirely, I will go do something else myself, for a while, but will probably very shortly be back.....
Anyway, my real guilt lies not in the amount of time online nor in the substance of what I'm reading/viewing, but rather in the deep sense of betrayal I feel I have committed against my, as Marigold would say, Own Wittle Waptop--the laptop given to me, no less, by Matt after Gladys poured tea on the lovely little white one. This current laptop was the smallest and fastest he could find, purchased by him out of love and necessity. I have taken it everywhere, done everything that needed doing--blogging, editing pictures, reading books, watching movies, beating the children off my back from thinking they could touch it at all....
until, a few days after Christmas, I found myself holding in my own hands an itsy teeny wittle iPad mini with a bright soft red cover. I have been rapturously in love all these weeks without thought or care (you know that love--the loss of thought for self, the floating around on clouds of euphoria--or something like that anyway) until a sharp pang of guilt and disloyalty swept over me last night as I heard myself say to Alouicious, 'Sure, you can play a game on my laptop. Just don't carry it all over the house. Try to stay in one place.' Even now, as I sit here laboring away on this little tiny iPad keyboard, my laptop carefully hidden behind a tower of books and paper, averting my mind's eye from its reproachful smudgy presence, the guilt and love roll mingled down into rationalization. 'The children can use the laptop for school.' 'It will be so much safer now, me leaving it in one Central Location and it being used as needed for Educational Purposes.'
Still, this little tablet is such a pleasure to use. Matt and I have synced (is that even a word) our calendars so that we are no longer shocked and horrified by the unfolding discovery of the other person's day. I have been listening to an interesting array of books read to me by people who took the time to read them out loud. Marigold has been playing Bob with the Bob Book app. I won't list everything. You might go away and do something else besides reading the Internet, a true tragedy. But so that I don't find I need to Give It Up Entirely, I will go do something else myself, for a while, but will probably very shortly be back.....
Friday, February 15, 2013
7 quick takes
one
For lent this year we're saying morning prayer with the kids three times a week. I had been doing an abbreviated form in the fall, plugging some memory work into the middle and letting the kids twirl while we sang, but had fallen into the ditch of Not Ever Doing It. So Matt has joined us in a gracious effort to get it back.
two
Marigold would hog the whole time of prayer if we let her. She has lately been prying not only for everyone by name, but also for what she thinks they should do doing the day. She'll whisper the person's name and then a long list, like, 'school, chores, make your bed, etc.' Meanwhile, everyone else is still desperately praying for a good time. 'Dear Jesus, please give us a good time at the pancake supper' as if there were any serious possibility of not having one.
three
Part of launching whole heatedly into this new liturgical season involved going to the dentist on Ash Wednesday, in between preaching and distractedly painting some really hideous flowers on the wall of the little girls room. The dentist was amazingly fine. I left feeling like a reasonably dysfunctional person and not the total freak I've always assumed I must be (in terms of my teeth, don't let your imagination run away from you). I have several appointments to go back but I'm strangely not worried about it. And by the end of lent, I'll probably fall into the reasonably normal category, rather than reasonably dysfunctional. Still, I will be dragging out Mrs. Miniver later and putting some more content in that Dentist category on the side.
four
The little girls room had to be painted on Wednesday because a new floor began to go in yesterday. Our color choice was driven by our great desire to not spend any money at all. You know all those great bloggers out there who write and photograph so beautifully about how to do amazing things with no money at all? I'm not one of those bloggers.
five
So the floor is half in and I think it looks great. And Matt loves it, and the boys like it and the little girls are twirling and happy and Elphine...well, Elphine sobbed for 35 minutes last night until I finally just made her go to bed. 'Every single room has blue now' she wailed. 'Why can't we just have bare boards down?' So, anyone have any 'old fashioned' rugs lying around unused?
six
While the floor was going in I made what I finally called Beef and Lentil Stew for Shepherd's Bowl. Ground Beef, lentils, onion, garlic, green pepper, carrots, sweet potato, chickpeas, tomatoes, and one of those amazing shalimar packets full of indian spices my mother sends me when she can. Didn't take a picture and there was none left by the end, so you'll just have to imagine how rich and delicious it was.
seven
Today we're celebrating Valentines Day. We have a party to go to and then Matt is taking me out to dinner. So exciting. Haven't been out since before Christmas sometime. So whoever it is that's bravely coming over to babysit, hopefully Elphine won't be crying any more. I'm sure it will be totally fun.
Have a great weekend and go check out Jen!
For lent this year we're saying morning prayer with the kids three times a week. I had been doing an abbreviated form in the fall, plugging some memory work into the middle and letting the kids twirl while we sang, but had fallen into the ditch of Not Ever Doing It. So Matt has joined us in a gracious effort to get it back.
two
Marigold would hog the whole time of prayer if we let her. She has lately been prying not only for everyone by name, but also for what she thinks they should do doing the day. She'll whisper the person's name and then a long list, like, 'school, chores, make your bed, etc.' Meanwhile, everyone else is still desperately praying for a good time. 'Dear Jesus, please give us a good time at the pancake supper' as if there were any serious possibility of not having one.
three
Part of launching whole heatedly into this new liturgical season involved going to the dentist on Ash Wednesday, in between preaching and distractedly painting some really hideous flowers on the wall of the little girls room. The dentist was amazingly fine. I left feeling like a reasonably dysfunctional person and not the total freak I've always assumed I must be (in terms of my teeth, don't let your imagination run away from you). I have several appointments to go back but I'm strangely not worried about it. And by the end of lent, I'll probably fall into the reasonably normal category, rather than reasonably dysfunctional. Still, I will be dragging out Mrs. Miniver later and putting some more content in that Dentist category on the side.
four
The little girls room had to be painted on Wednesday because a new floor began to go in yesterday. Our color choice was driven by our great desire to not spend any money at all. You know all those great bloggers out there who write and photograph so beautifully about how to do amazing things with no money at all? I'm not one of those bloggers.
five
So the floor is half in and I think it looks great. And Matt loves it, and the boys like it and the little girls are twirling and happy and Elphine...well, Elphine sobbed for 35 minutes last night until I finally just made her go to bed. 'Every single room has blue now' she wailed. 'Why can't we just have bare boards down?' So, anyone have any 'old fashioned' rugs lying around unused?
six
While the floor was going in I made what I finally called Beef and Lentil Stew for Shepherd's Bowl. Ground Beef, lentils, onion, garlic, green pepper, carrots, sweet potato, chickpeas, tomatoes, and one of those amazing shalimar packets full of indian spices my mother sends me when she can. Didn't take a picture and there was none left by the end, so you'll just have to imagine how rich and delicious it was.
seven
Today we're celebrating Valentines Day. We have a party to go to and then Matt is taking me out to dinner. So exciting. Haven't been out since before Christmas sometime. So whoever it is that's bravely coming over to babysit, hopefully Elphine won't be crying any more. I'm sure it will be totally fun.
Have a great weekend and go check out Jen!
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
sermon for ash wednesday
We'll be looking mostly at Matthew 6 this morning if you would like to turn there.
So, first of all, what is Lent?
Lent is the 40 day season of fasting, self-denial and self-examination leading up to Jesus' passion, crucifixion and ultimate resurrection at Easter. It mirrors the Israelites 40 years of wandering in the dessert, the 40 days Noah and his family were in the ark and Jesus' 40 day fast after his baptism. The Sundays in lent don't count as part of the fast. Sunday marks the day of Jesus victory over death in his rising again and is always a feast day.
Two, what's with the ashes?
The ashes are a symbol, a visual reminder of death.
In a culture and time when we do everything we can to avoid the reality of death, this morning,
we will mark ourselves out as not only going to die, but as deserving of that fate.
Adam was formed out of the dust, by the hand of God and his whole being depended on God for life. As long as he lived in obedience and love with God, he would live forever. His sin, his disobedience was a decision to cut himself off from the source of his physical and spiritual life.
He rebelled against, he rejected God, and the result of that decision was death.
As the children of Adam we,
generation after generation,
family after family,
person after person,
have joined Adam in sin,
have walked that furrow deep into the ground.
And so we also die.
Not usually because of some particular sin that we commit,
but in the cosmic way that a people separated from the source of life
cannot live.
The death we die in sin is in two kinds.
We die fist spiritually.
The result of turning away from God is a heart of stone,
a heart that cannot feel,
that cannot judge rightly,
that cannot love God,
or other people,
or even the self.
And the second death is physical.
Our bodies die and fall back into the ground, into the dust.
Part of turning around and repenting, of saying sorry to God for not loving him, for not doing what he says to do, is acknowledging that we deserve both deaths, that he has a right to judge us for sin, that we really have done wrong.
The ash smeared on your head in the sign of the cross is a mark of your sorrow for sin,
your desire for God himself to bring you back to life himself—your heart now, your body at the resurrection of the dead. This new life comes through Jesus who, in dying, lifted the sin off of you and took it on to himself.
He died so that you might live.
He paid the just penalty for sin.
When you give yourself to him, his perfect life, his atoning death count for you.
God looks at you and sees you covered by Jesus’ perfection and makes you alive in Jesus, now and forevermore.
Third, therefore, what can one do during Lent?
Let's look at Matthew 6 to answer that question. This chapter is part of Jesus' great Sermon on the Mount. In this section of that sermon he is addressing three things he expects his disciples to do. In each of the three, you'll notice in verses 2, 5 and 16, Jesus does not say, 'if you' give, pray, fast he says, 'when you' give, pray, fast and then he instructs as to the manner in which he wants you to do those things.
Let’s look at the first verse.
Jesus says,
Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order sto be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.
Beware, be warned off.
You might be tempted to engage in these actions because you want other people to notice and like you or be jealous of you.
You may be doing them as a means to an end,
to get something for yourself,
acclaim, or power, or recognition.
You may like to use your work to bargain with God,
thinking he may owe you if you 'really sacrifice yourself'.
Don't do that, says Jesus.
You will have 'no reward from your Father who is in heaven'.
The reward that is worth getting will not come from making a show
and getting other people to feel bad that you're doing it
or notice you and puff you up,
or from doing it and complaining all the time.
The good reward comes from your Father in heaven who,
we find out in verses 4 and 18,
'sees in secret'.
You do them in secret,
unseen by the world
and he sees you.
You don't know or perceive that he sees you
but he does see. He does know.
I think so many of our choices
bad and good
come from a deep loneliness,
of not feeling known or seen or understood by other people.
The first three sins after God created the world—
Eve's doubt of God's goodness,
Adam's abdication,
Cain's murder of Able—
were not born out of a desire for material things particularly,
but from a doubting that God really sees,
really cares,
is really acting in love,
is good,
and that his goodness and love are enough.
Jealousy, pride, despair, gluttony, lust, covetousness,
all these grow out of the root of poverty,
that God is not love,
that he is not good,
that he himself is not enough,
that he is not here,
that he does not see,
that he does not care.
That we can do better than him,
that we do not need him nor owe him anything.
These three, giving, praying and fasting cut at the root of that lie. They say that you cannot and do not want to live on your own power and strength,
that you trust him to provide for you,
to sustain you.
And you trust that he sees you that he hears you that he cares for you.
So, when you give,
you give because you believe that God has already given you what you need and that he will go on giving.
You don't give trying to get something,
like guilt from other people, or acclaim and recognition,
you give out of love and dependence.
And Jesus says, in secret, The Lord sees you.
So also your praying.
Pray in such a way that either seen or unseen by men,
your heart and mind are fully fixed on the one to whom you pray,
to the Father who not only hears your prayers, he hears them before you pray them.
The prayer Jesus gives here is a prayer that encompasses every part of the material and spiritual life, it is a prayer of dependence on and trust in God who sees you and hears what you say.
And finally, when you fast. That is the kicker.
I've always had a whole bunch of good reasons why I could not fast. I'm pregnant, I'm nursing (well, ok, those count), I will literally die because of my metabolism.
But what if your desire for God,
your need to be with him in prayer,
your sense of despair about yourself and your ability to fix your own problems,
and ultimately, your loneliness,
those moments when you look deeply at your heart and know
that not only does no other human person know you,
understand you,
love you to the depths of your need,
and not only so
but you do not love yourself,
you do not know yourself
and you cannot explain to yourself or to other people why you act the way you do,
why you are choosing the things you are choosing,
then a fast of some kind will maybe be a great help to you.
In fasting there might be at least two gains,
or rewards given to you which cannot be taken away or be ruined.
The first gain is that in denying yourself something,
say food for one meal,
or some food or activity you feel reliant on to get through the day,
you gain the discovery that Jesus is able to sustain you without that thing.
You don't have to provide for yourself emotional health and well-being,
or material needs,
or spiritual salvation,
he will provide them for you.
You don't need to reach out and take the fruit of the tree that you think you need,
he can give you what you really do need.
The second gain is that in taking something away,
you are making room for Jesus where you haven't had room before.
You are preparing a place for him to know you and be known by you in a deeper way.
I have one final thought to close us out.
Some of you may be uncomfortable with the dissonance
between Jesus commanding all these spiritual actions be done and if possible done in secret,
which is essentially action born out of humility and love—
praying, giving, fasting done only for God to see,
only because you love him—
and then come up here and have a smear of ash in the shape of the cross applied to you that everyone can see.
Let me suggest that this sign is actually a sign of humility.
It is a sign of mourning, of sorrow.
Let me recall to your mind a peculiar detail from 2 kings 4.
One of the bad kings of Israel was walking along the wall during a siege by the Syrians.
The people were so hungry because of the siege that they were eating their babies.
And then the writer tells us this about the king when he discovers that babies are being eaten,
" When the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes—now he was passing by on the wall—and the people looked, and behold, he had sackcloth beneath on his body. "
The sign of his mourning was made bear and the people saw it.
As you come forward for the smear of ash,
for the sign of death, to bear the mark of sin and mortality on your head,
let the public sign be an occasion for true inward sorrow.
Rend your heart open before God
and let him see the darkness of your soul and mind.
Confess to him the thing that hurts you most to bring into the light of day.
And then,
even after the sign is washed away,
walk the next forty days as if you are stepping behind Jesus as he wends his weary painful way to Jerusalem. Why is he making this journey?
Why is he bearing up under the splintery hard cross?
Why is he willing to die?
Isn't it because he loves you?
Isn't it because he knows that His Father is enough to bind up his wounds?
The way of the cross is the way of life.
It is on the cross that all the sin,
all the bad motivation,
all the rebellion,
all the darkness of our hearts and minds can be wiped clean,
can be forgiven.
The sign is worn for a night,
the sorrow endures for a moment.
But life with the Father through the work of the Son, in the power of the Spirit endures forever.
You may leave here in mourning bearing the sign of death
knowing that Jesus has conquered death,
that it has no power over you.
Though you die, you will rise with The Lord of life
who sees what you do,
who loves you,
who forgives you,
who feeds and strengthens and provides for you.
The steadfast love of The Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. He is faithful. Hear his voice today, turn to him and live that his glory may extend over the whole earth.
So, first of all, what is Lent?
Lent is the 40 day season of fasting, self-denial and self-examination leading up to Jesus' passion, crucifixion and ultimate resurrection at Easter. It mirrors the Israelites 40 years of wandering in the dessert, the 40 days Noah and his family were in the ark and Jesus' 40 day fast after his baptism. The Sundays in lent don't count as part of the fast. Sunday marks the day of Jesus victory over death in his rising again and is always a feast day.
Two, what's with the ashes?
The ashes are a symbol, a visual reminder of death.
In a culture and time when we do everything we can to avoid the reality of death, this morning,
we will mark ourselves out as not only going to die, but as deserving of that fate.
Adam was formed out of the dust, by the hand of God and his whole being depended on God for life. As long as he lived in obedience and love with God, he would live forever. His sin, his disobedience was a decision to cut himself off from the source of his physical and spiritual life.
He rebelled against, he rejected God, and the result of that decision was death.
As the children of Adam we,
generation after generation,
family after family,
person after person,
have joined Adam in sin,
have walked that furrow deep into the ground.
And so we also die.
Not usually because of some particular sin that we commit,
but in the cosmic way that a people separated from the source of life
cannot live.
The death we die in sin is in two kinds.
We die fist spiritually.
The result of turning away from God is a heart of stone,
a heart that cannot feel,
that cannot judge rightly,
that cannot love God,
or other people,
or even the self.
And the second death is physical.
Our bodies die and fall back into the ground, into the dust.
Part of turning around and repenting, of saying sorry to God for not loving him, for not doing what he says to do, is acknowledging that we deserve both deaths, that he has a right to judge us for sin, that we really have done wrong.
The ash smeared on your head in the sign of the cross is a mark of your sorrow for sin,
your desire for God himself to bring you back to life himself—your heart now, your body at the resurrection of the dead. This new life comes through Jesus who, in dying, lifted the sin off of you and took it on to himself.
He died so that you might live.
He paid the just penalty for sin.
When you give yourself to him, his perfect life, his atoning death count for you.
God looks at you and sees you covered by Jesus’ perfection and makes you alive in Jesus, now and forevermore.
Third, therefore, what can one do during Lent?
Let's look at Matthew 6 to answer that question. This chapter is part of Jesus' great Sermon on the Mount. In this section of that sermon he is addressing three things he expects his disciples to do. In each of the three, you'll notice in verses 2, 5 and 16, Jesus does not say, 'if you' give, pray, fast he says, 'when you' give, pray, fast and then he instructs as to the manner in which he wants you to do those things.
Let’s look at the first verse.
Jesus says,
Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order sto be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.
Beware, be warned off.
You might be tempted to engage in these actions because you want other people to notice and like you or be jealous of you.
You may be doing them as a means to an end,
to get something for yourself,
acclaim, or power, or recognition.
You may like to use your work to bargain with God,
thinking he may owe you if you 'really sacrifice yourself'.
Don't do that, says Jesus.
You will have 'no reward from your Father who is in heaven'.
The reward that is worth getting will not come from making a show
and getting other people to feel bad that you're doing it
or notice you and puff you up,
or from doing it and complaining all the time.
The good reward comes from your Father in heaven who,
we find out in verses 4 and 18,
'sees in secret'.
You do them in secret,
unseen by the world
and he sees you.
You don't know or perceive that he sees you
but he does see. He does know.
I think so many of our choices
bad and good
come from a deep loneliness,
of not feeling known or seen or understood by other people.
The first three sins after God created the world—
Eve's doubt of God's goodness,
Adam's abdication,
Cain's murder of Able—
were not born out of a desire for material things particularly,
but from a doubting that God really sees,
really cares,
is really acting in love,
is good,
and that his goodness and love are enough.
Jealousy, pride, despair, gluttony, lust, covetousness,
all these grow out of the root of poverty,
that God is not love,
that he is not good,
that he himself is not enough,
that he is not here,
that he does not see,
that he does not care.
That we can do better than him,
that we do not need him nor owe him anything.
These three, giving, praying and fasting cut at the root of that lie. They say that you cannot and do not want to live on your own power and strength,
that you trust him to provide for you,
to sustain you.
And you trust that he sees you that he hears you that he cares for you.
So, when you give,
you give because you believe that God has already given you what you need and that he will go on giving.
You don't give trying to get something,
like guilt from other people, or acclaim and recognition,
you give out of love and dependence.
And Jesus says, in secret, The Lord sees you.
So also your praying.
Pray in such a way that either seen or unseen by men,
your heart and mind are fully fixed on the one to whom you pray,
to the Father who not only hears your prayers, he hears them before you pray them.
The prayer Jesus gives here is a prayer that encompasses every part of the material and spiritual life, it is a prayer of dependence on and trust in God who sees you and hears what you say.
And finally, when you fast. That is the kicker.
I've always had a whole bunch of good reasons why I could not fast. I'm pregnant, I'm nursing (well, ok, those count), I will literally die because of my metabolism.
But what if your desire for God,
your need to be with him in prayer,
your sense of despair about yourself and your ability to fix your own problems,
and ultimately, your loneliness,
those moments when you look deeply at your heart and know
that not only does no other human person know you,
understand you,
love you to the depths of your need,
and not only so
but you do not love yourself,
you do not know yourself
and you cannot explain to yourself or to other people why you act the way you do,
why you are choosing the things you are choosing,
then a fast of some kind will maybe be a great help to you.
In fasting there might be at least two gains,
or rewards given to you which cannot be taken away or be ruined.
The first gain is that in denying yourself something,
say food for one meal,
or some food or activity you feel reliant on to get through the day,
you gain the discovery that Jesus is able to sustain you without that thing.
You don't have to provide for yourself emotional health and well-being,
or material needs,
or spiritual salvation,
he will provide them for you.
You don't need to reach out and take the fruit of the tree that you think you need,
he can give you what you really do need.
The second gain is that in taking something away,
you are making room for Jesus where you haven't had room before.
You are preparing a place for him to know you and be known by you in a deeper way.
I have one final thought to close us out.
Some of you may be uncomfortable with the dissonance
between Jesus commanding all these spiritual actions be done and if possible done in secret,
which is essentially action born out of humility and love—
praying, giving, fasting done only for God to see,
only because you love him—
and then come up here and have a smear of ash in the shape of the cross applied to you that everyone can see.
Let me suggest that this sign is actually a sign of humility.
It is a sign of mourning, of sorrow.
Let me recall to your mind a peculiar detail from 2 kings 4.
One of the bad kings of Israel was walking along the wall during a siege by the Syrians.
The people were so hungry because of the siege that they were eating their babies.
And then the writer tells us this about the king when he discovers that babies are being eaten,
" When the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes—now he was passing by on the wall—and the people looked, and behold, he had sackcloth beneath on his body. "
The sign of his mourning was made bear and the people saw it.
As you come forward for the smear of ash,
for the sign of death, to bear the mark of sin and mortality on your head,
let the public sign be an occasion for true inward sorrow.
Rend your heart open before God
and let him see the darkness of your soul and mind.
Confess to him the thing that hurts you most to bring into the light of day.
And then,
even after the sign is washed away,
walk the next forty days as if you are stepping behind Jesus as he wends his weary painful way to Jerusalem. Why is he making this journey?
Why is he bearing up under the splintery hard cross?
Why is he willing to die?
Isn't it because he loves you?
Isn't it because he knows that His Father is enough to bind up his wounds?
The way of the cross is the way of life.
It is on the cross that all the sin,
all the bad motivation,
all the rebellion,
all the darkness of our hearts and minds can be wiped clean,
can be forgiven.
The sign is worn for a night,
the sorrow endures for a moment.
But life with the Father through the work of the Son, in the power of the Spirit endures forever.
You may leave here in mourning bearing the sign of death
knowing that Jesus has conquered death,
that it has no power over you.
Though you die, you will rise with The Lord of life
who sees what you do,
who loves you,
who forgives you,
who feeds and strengthens and provides for you.
The steadfast love of The Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. He is faithful. Hear his voice today, turn to him and live that his glory may extend over the whole earth.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
it appears that marigold was trying to blog
Uribrdroororrwyefuuuuià aQgp,tn,o
Uh f. .
,vb
Hby4 m m.
And now she is mad at me because I made her stop.
Uh f. .
,vb
Hby4 m m.
And now she is mad at me because I made her stop.
Monday, February 11, 2013
pictures of ermentrude
Ermintrude received 'skinny jeans' for her birthday. She got all ready to go out and then lay herself down on the bed and shrieked for ten minutes or so.
Then she was mad at me for taking a picture.
Aren't her boots cool?
And here is her cake. Chocolate with pink icing and kisses on the top. Basically she licked all the frosting off and then ate the candies and then got down and threw her new blocks around the room.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
the poem of god
We watched The Prince of Egypt recently in our usual lackadaisical weekly watching of A Family Movie. It's either Big Trouble in Little China (whoops) or Gnomeo and Juliet (srsly) or well, other hits and misses. So I thought The Prince of Egypt was going to be about Joseph not Moses and I didn't know it was a musical....but I tried not to feed into the general whining about all the singing. Alouicious finally stopped complaining when he realized the little girls liked it.
In particular, Gladys seemed to be thinking about all kinds of things and after talking a whole lot when it was over and rubbing my cheek announced that she would write a poem. Then, the next day, she hassled me all morning until I dropped everything and sat down and wrote down what she wanted. All that follows is her 'poem', but really more of an imprecatory psalm, scribbled by me as she spoke without breath. If you're generally offended by the violent justice of God in the Old Testament then you won't enjoy this. But if you've worked through that you should be fine.
The Poem of God
By Gladys
Mary and Joseph were going to get a baby.
An angel said to them, "You are going to have a baby."
Pharoah came to get his prisoners back
but God put up a wall of water for his people
and flooded Pharaoh and his people.
God's people were safe.
The people of Israel had a party to celebrate.
God said the people should have a place to live and lots of food and water.
They came to a place a place where the were lots
of homes with food and water.
The people lived and were safe.
All Pharaoh's people were dead,
sinking in the sand and all the frogs
were jumping on them.
They would be dead forever.
God's people were safe with food and water.
Every morning they sat in front of the cozy fire with warm blankets.
All Pharaoh's people were dead at the bottom of the ocean.
In particular, Gladys seemed to be thinking about all kinds of things and after talking a whole lot when it was over and rubbing my cheek announced that she would write a poem. Then, the next day, she hassled me all morning until I dropped everything and sat down and wrote down what she wanted. All that follows is her 'poem', but really more of an imprecatory psalm, scribbled by me as she spoke without breath. If you're generally offended by the violent justice of God in the Old Testament then you won't enjoy this. But if you've worked through that you should be fine.
The Poem of God
By Gladys
Mary and Joseph were going to get a baby.
An angel said to them, "You are going to have a baby."
Pharoah came to get his prisoners back
but God put up a wall of water for his people
and flooded Pharaoh and his people.
God's people were safe.
The people of Israel had a party to celebrate.
God said the people should have a place to live and lots of food and water.
They came to a place a place where the were lots
of homes with food and water.
The people lived and were safe.
All Pharaoh's people were dead,
sinking in the sand and all the frogs
were jumping on them.
They would be dead forever.
God's people were safe with food and water.
Every morning they sat in front of the cozy fire with warm blankets.
All Pharaoh's people were dead at the bottom of the ocean.
Saturday, February 09, 2013
ermintrude turns two
Shocked by the horrific cold brought about by dressing up in a huge puffy pink snow suit, boots, hat, mittens and scarf and standing in the true nightmare that is a foot of snow for three and a half minutes, Big Fatty Lumpkin is this moment siting on my lap piercing the otherwise relative quiet with shrieks and trying to shove both her plump fists in her mouth to warm them up. I agree with her. Going out there is a bad idea. The wind, the ice...it's just not that pretty.
Instead maybe, once she's recovered, she can help me do laundry and then have a lie down while I bake some kind of cake.
I'm fairly ambivalent about this birthday moment. On the one hand, the sooner a baby stops being a baby the better, otherwise we would all die from never sleeping ever. On the other hand, it would be nice if she would slow down for a few minutes and not rush from one stage to the next. She's trying to keep up with the others. She doesn't want anyone to do anything for her. The moments of sitting on my lap sucking on her fists are becoming more and more rare. She weighs the same and is nearly as tall as Marigold. Only her fat cheeks and fat neck and cry give her away as a whole year younger.
So, congratulations to you, baby Ermintrude. This may be the year we stop calling you baby and start calling you by your name. Or, perhaps not. Perhaps one more year of being Baby.
Instead maybe, once she's recovered, she can help me do laundry and then have a lie down while I bake some kind of cake.
I'm fairly ambivalent about this birthday moment. On the one hand, the sooner a baby stops being a baby the better, otherwise we would all die from never sleeping ever. On the other hand, it would be nice if she would slow down for a few minutes and not rush from one stage to the next. She's trying to keep up with the others. She doesn't want anyone to do anything for her. The moments of sitting on my lap sucking on her fists are becoming more and more rare. She weighs the same and is nearly as tall as Marigold. Only her fat cheeks and fat neck and cry give her away as a whole year younger.
So, congratulations to you, baby Ermintrude. This may be the year we stop calling you baby and start calling you by your name. Or, perhaps not. Perhaps one more year of being Baby.
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