More Meredith Gould

Gardening Department 2013: Moving to the Backyard (Before)

2013-06-18T12:50:00.000-04:00

A lamentable mess,

plus brutal afternoon sun

and swamp conditions.

An echinacea plant and a lilac bush confined to pots and left on the deck by the previous owners.

My plan? Liberating them!

Life as a Clergy Wife: And a Time to...Let's Go!

2013-06-16T00:00:00.000-04:00

Someone recently asked my husband if he'd shorten the Sunday service. He came home and told me. I've waited a respectable length of time before writing about this. Maybe an entire week.

Shorten Sunday Eucharist? How much shorter could it get? Clearly these people know nothing about their Jewish roots.

Being raised Jewish, I entered my Christian Era at a level of comfy discomfort with lengthy worship services.

When I was growing up, a typical synagogue service involved at least 90 minutes of blessings, prayers, Torah readings, and D'var Torah/Drasha (trans: homily). Add another 30-to-60 minutes for the Oneg Shabbat (Hebrew: "Joy of Sabbath." Practical reality: refreshments).

Being raised in the Reform movement, I knew our services were brief moments in secular time compared to ones Conservative and Orthodox Jews conducted. Theirs went on for hours, although it's also true their services also seemed to involve a lot of traffic and schmoozing. No silent sitting in pews.

And so it came as a shock to discover Christian worship took less than an hour to complete from opening hymn to closing benediction.

I'm referring, of course, to a typical Sunday morning when there are no baptisms, renewal of nuptial vows, or sending youth off to build houses in developing countries. Regular services seem to be done in an analytic hour (i.e., 50 minutes).

In all fairness, that recent request to shorten the service came about because there would indeed be a sending forth ceremony. Could he, perhaps, shorten his sermon?

Oh, he could do that and more. He could also eliminate the second reading; cut out some hymn verses. My suggestion:

"Save time? How about sing every other word?"

Meanwhile, shimmering in the thought bubble:

Gardening Department 2013: Filling In & Getting Ready to Bloom

2013-06-15T11:48:00.000-04:00

At the front of our condo.

Ajuga starting to fill in.

Hostas getting ready to bloom.

Bummed the clematis are white, but certainly not ripping them out to replace with much preferred purple.

Quote du Jour (Religion Department) | Pope Francis: "Do not be a closed church..."

2013-06-10T18:55:00.000-04:00

Did you ever think you'd see the day when I'd post more than one pull quote from a text? How about more than one pull quote from anything the Pope had to say? Well, that day has come! I'm posting an entire video, albeit a couple of weeks after it originally hit the Internet.

Truth to tell, I just got around to listening to this glorious wisdom. And I'm sitting here laughing at myself for writing, "I just got around..." because today was the perfect day to listen to this video. Holy Spirit? That's what I'm thinking.

I've listened to this video more than once. I plan to listen to it again. Maybe you will feel compelled to do so as well.

Gardening Department 2013: Side Developments

2013-06-06T00:15:00.000-04:00

Meanwhile, here's what's happening

on the other side of the other side.

From this...

To this!

Gardening Department 2013: Howz About Them Tomatoes?

2013-06-05T00:15:00.000-04:00

Small but presumably yummy.

Back in the 1980s, I grew the basic ratatouille garden -- rows of tomatoes, eggplants and peppers. Clearly I've scaled waaaaay down. Growing basil in pots on the other side of the deck.

Vine: Oh my Sacred Beating Heart

2013-06-04T00:31:00.000-04:00

Vine became available for Android today!

Gardening Department 2013: On the Deck

2013-06-02T10:21:00.000-04:00

Not exactly acreage but

big enough to have some fun.

Power-washed and stained...not by me,
thanks be to God and the housing allowance!

In progress...

Jasmine, lavender, rosemary, dianthus

Butterfly bush, lavender, basil, phlox

Life as a Clergy Wife: Choking on the Collar

2013-05-29T01:00:00.000-04:00

In the beginning, seeing my husband in clericals was a challenge. My years in the Roman Catholic church has had an impact and knowing full well he's an Episcopal priest never quite offset the jolt of seeing him collared up.

This was especially true if he wore a notched collar instead of the "dog collar" typically worn by Protestant clergy which, in my rarely humble opinion, is a terrific look. I tried one on once and looked totally fabulous, especially because it hid a generous expanse of my aging neck.

But enough about me and back to me.

I also had to cope with the utter weirdness of seeing collars and tab inserts piled on his dresser or left on the kitchen counter at the end of a long day.

"So, hon, how was Christendom today?"

[Insert sound of collar being removed with a deep sigh of faith-filled surrender.]

Eventually the collar -- on him -- became normative. I no longer found myself exclaiming, "Whoa! Is it Halloween?" whenever he dressed for work. At some point I might stop making snarky comments about the "party dress" when he's decked out in canon garb. (FYI Catholics: canon = msgr.)

I hadn't realized just now normative clericals had become until my husband recently came home from a so-called normal day at the diocesan center wearing a shirt and tie.

"What the . . . does your bishop know?!?"

"Oh yes. He even said 'nice tie.'"

Thought but not uttered, "Now is it Halloween?!?"

The Blood of. . . . a Dangerous Slip? Sober Living in the World of Church

2013-05-26T01:00:00.000-04:00

Why am I writing about my adventures with alcohol in the World of Church? Thank my beloved gal pal and sister in Christ, Fran Rossi Szpylczyn.

Over on Facebook, Fran managed to generate comments on my post about GF Eucharist. Among them a well-meaning suggestion from someone about receiving only from the cup as a work-around to wheat-laced hosts.

Uh, no.

Offering wine as the only option for Communion screws with people in recovery. Intinction ("what's the harm of a little dipping?") also screws with people in recovery.

Even if you really truly believe that wine has really and truly substantially turned into the Sacred Precious Blood of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ during the consecration, offering ~~wine~~ Sacred Precious Blood screws with people in recovery, especially those not in recovery long enough to know that even a whiff of ~~blood~~ wine could trigger a slip or full-blown bender. It also screws with those in recovery long enough to know all this.

(Thank me for not going on about church folk who should be in recovery. Legion.)

In the World of Church there's a universal code for "I'm not receiving the cup." It's standing with your arms crossed across your chest. Sometimes the instruction to do this appears in the bulletin or worship booklet; sometimes it's announced by the celebrant. In any event, it's universally recognized across denominations as meaning, "Go ahead and bless me but don't hand me the cup."

Universally recognized. Except when it isn't. I, of course, have a personal story about this.

At the time I'd already put together well over ten years of continuous recovery. I'd even published a book with Hazelden about Twelve-Step recovery. While there was no way I'd receive from the cup, I wasn't unilaterally opposed to serving from it as a eucharistic minister.

On mornings when I really didn't need to be smelling wine -- especially the cheap stuff bought in bulk by the parish -- I'd quietly ask the celebrant or deacon to let me distribute the host. A couple of times I turned to the EMOC next to me and say, "Please may we swap?" Never a problem.

So imagine my utter disgust with the 40-something priest who kept offering me the cup. This guy just couldn't or wouldn't get with the program -- pun intended.

Father Passive Aggressive would offer me the cup even after I reminded him not to. He'd offer it to me even as I stood at the altar with my arms crossed. He'd offer it to me even if I stood, arms crossed, one marble step down from other eucharistic ministers. He kept offering it to me until the bright Sunday morning when I finally hissed through clenched teeth, "Get. That. Thing. Away. From. Me."

Protestants get this right by offering grape juice as an option, although I don't receive that either, mostly because Crest Whitestrips are pricey.

And yes, I receive Communion at Protestant churches. As someone raised Jewish and baptized, I consider my sacred right and privilege to receive anywhere, everywhere, and anytime Repeat after me: "We believe in one baptism for the forgiveness of sins....We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church."

Last but certainly not least, buy my book. I'm sure you know someone in the World of Church who needs to sober up from something. Relative to that, stay tuned for my forthcoming post about binge-watching stuff on Netflix.

The Body of . . .Oops! Gluten Free in the World of Church

2013-05-25T01:00:00.000-04:00

If you follow my adventures within and beyond church, you already know I can go from zero to gazillion mph when it comes to discussing gluten-free living.

Secular summation: Why are GF foods so needlessly expensive?

Sacramental summation: Why is offering GF Communion so freakin' difficult?

I stripped gluten from my diet several years ago. A nutritionist thought doing so would reduce my fibromyalgia pain. I rolled my eyes when she trotted out the suggestion.

"Isn't gluten free the new bright shiny?"

Celiac disease had recently become the diagnosis du jour and I already knew I didn't have that. She provided links to articles in credible journals. Giving up wheat, rye, and barley seemed easy enough. It was and within 72 hours my pain level had dropped a stunning 80-ish percent.

I became more careful about eating anything with gluten. It was expensive at first because GF foods, especially those made under certified gluten free manufacturing processes are pricey. That was relatively easy for me to work around because I rock at cooking.

What's wasn't and still isn't so easy is getting GF Eucharist, especially at Roman Catholic churches. Either GF hosts aren't available or arranging to receive them is brutally cumbersome or actually receiving them can be downright humiliating.

No joke, I attended a church where those receiving GF Eucharist were told to go to the back of the ~~bus~~ line to wait until everyone else was served. This was allegedly easier . . . for the deacon who also made no attempt to disguise his exasperation with the situation. I no longer attend that church. And yes, I was too weary to lift that aggravation up to the Lord or lay it at the foot of the Cross.

Last year I flat-out gave up. When not receiving Communion became too spiritually painful, I decided to opt for physical pain. Impressively white martyr-ish, eh? Not really.

Turns out a small piece keeps the fibro pain down to a manageable 2-3 on a scale of ten. Tolerable since my normal pain level runs at 5-6 on any given day of goofy barometric pressure changes.

The next challenge became instructing clergy to offer a smaller piece of Eucharist, something routinely done so nursing home communicants don't choke to death on Jesus. But this, too, has proven to be a hassle at times. But it's not a hassle at St. Mark's Evangelical Lutheran Church in Baltimore.

I especially love the swift, heartfelt mea culpa Pastor Dale Dusman delivers if he forgets to break what has already broken for us. Last Sunday's sounded like this: "The Body of . . . oops!"

We both cracked up laughing at the altar rail and thanks to the endorphin boost, I was (relatively) pain-free for the rest of the day.

When Thursday Feels Like Friday

2013-05-23T11:27:00.000-04:00

This is possibly the third week in a row Thursday has felt like Friday. Maybe it's because I generally work at least one full day on weekends and front-load Mondays and Tuesdays. By Thursday I'm basically done -- as in "turkeys are done, people are finished."

Around here, Monday is Clergy Day Off but that doesn't stop me from racing around. I tend to spend Tuesdays dealing with whatever suddenly occurred to clients over the weekend. I end the day either attending or moderating the church social media (#chsocm) chat on Twitter. Wednesdays I follow-up whatever got generated. Is it any wonder that Thursday has started feeling like Friday?

Apparently I am not alone. Last Thursday, my Loyola Press gal pal Denise Gorss (@Denise205) posted a tweet about it feeling like Friday. Hence, this exegetical exchange:

Yes, I do believe that two or more of us thinking it's Friday makes it so.

Also that Jesus the Christ is with us and expecting roasted chicken for Thursday's faux Shabbat meal. That's my time-tripping delusion and I'm sticking to it.

Pentecost! Come Holy Spirit Home Decor

2013-05-18T21:35:00.002-04:00

Our Fireplace Mantel

Altar/Theme Park

WooHoo Holy Spirit!

And do revisit this favorite Pentecost post of mine from 2010.

Gardening Department 2013: Working on the (Other) Side (Yard)

2013-05-07T13:05:00.000-04:00

Making my way across our driveway.*

Transplanted the yarrow and artemisia.

Fun continues with transplanting a
hosta from yet another section.

Closeup!

* Next door neighbor has conceded neither he nor his wife care about gardening and I'm welcome to work my over to their side of the driveway!

Gardening Department 2013: Beginning Continued

2013-05-03T01:00:00.000-04:00

Blessings planted so far...
Working the other side
of the mini-land this weekend.

Not exactly "before" but not "after."

Coming along nicely.

Habemus Book Cover! The Social Media Gospel: Sharing the Good News In New Ways

2013-05-02T00:00:00.000-04:00

The Social Media Gospel:

Sharing the Good News in New Ways

Foreword by The Rev. David L. Hansen (@Rev_David)

Soon and Very Soon!

July 2013

from Liturgical Press

This fabulous cover designed by Stefan Killen.
Grateful to Liturgical Press for welcoming
my creative direction and ongoing input.

Gardening Department 2013: Beginning Again

2013-04-29T03:00:00.000-04:00

Blessed work in progress...

There was even more stuff stuffed in here.

Cleaned almost everything out the moment I could.

Thank me for not showing you the before this before.

I'm Back From My Unintended Hiatus

2013-04-27T10:45:00.000-04:00

We were discussing how things were going and how I'd felt during the month between acupuncture sessions. Allyson had been on maternity leave.

Me? I'd been on a self-imposed merry-go-round of billable work; reviewing galleys for my new book; reading galleys of friends' books; contemplating the mess of a front yard inherited from previous owners of this townhouse; recruiting for the #chsocm chat moderator team and scheduling that through July.

Add the predictable, inevitable fibromyalgia flare-up that knocked me down, out, and supine on the couch whenever I could stagger there from bed. This, in turn, led to binge-viewing all five seasons of "Mad Men," sometimes until 2:30 AM.

No blogging. No writing. Barely any praying beyond, "God, let me know and do your will" and then being too distracted or otherwise out-of-it to read the signs.

I trotted all this out to Allyson before, during, and after she was checking my pulses. "You know," she said, "you could schedule a hiatus instead of collapsing into one."

Wow, what a concept!

Alleluia! No Joke.

2013-04-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

Resurrection Sunday & Tangential Exegesis for Easter

2013-03-30T20:00:00.000-04:00

He is not here,
but is risen!

Luke 24:6

For our sake

and for that of

yellow peeps.

Good Friday: Spoiler Alert

2013-03-29T00:00:00.000-04:00

I Support Marriage Equality but My Profile Picture Will Not Go Red

2013-03-28T12:20:00.001-04:00

I support marriage equality but won't be changing my profile picture on Twitter or Facebook. Call me shallow, but my decision has to do with aesthetics.

Red and pink?!? Even if you call it "crimson and salmon," it's still ugly. I shudder to think (or dare articulate) what the pink might represent.

Everyone is so darn sensitive these days, I can't even bust out one-liners that would've been perfectly fine back in the 1970s when I was a gay activist.* I mourn those days of smart snark when only the most doctrinaire radical separatist lesbian feminists got easily offended about anything having to do with sex, gender, or sexuality. Everyone else was Free to Trash You and Me.

Outraged offense is so revoltingly mainstream these days that I nearly wept with gratitude when I saw this:

*That's right, I was a gay activist. Yes, my husband knows about this.

Quote du Jour (News Department) | SCOTUS Hears DOMA and Prop 8 Cases

2013-03-28T11:08:00.001-04:00

Many decades ago, I would read the Supreme Court Reporter for fun and illumination. My doctoral dissertation focused on the sociology of constitutional adjudication relative to women's rights. I was super-geared up about the SCOTUS hearings on Proposition 8 and DOMA because so many of the constitutional issues relative to race, sex, and gender are applicable. Once again.

Although I'm not generally an auditory learner, I did find myself transfixed by audio coverage of the hearings. I chimed in. I tried to cite cases of first instance before counsel.

I also did lots of muttering about the verbal demeanor of some justices, which is why I was delighted to read Maureen Dowd's lede in her Op-Ed piece, Courting Cowardice: "As the arguments unfurled in Tuesday's case on same-sex marriage, the Supreme Court justices sounded more and more cranky."

Many many great lines and paragraphs to pull from Dowd's column but because I went ape-crazy when I heard bogus arguments about waiting for more social science data* to be generated, here's one of my favorites:

Donald Verrilli Jr., the U.S. solicitor general arguing on the side of same-sex marriage, told the justices, 'There is a cost to waiting.' He recalled that the argument by opponents of interracial marriage in Loving v. Virginia in 1967 was to delay because 'the social science is still uncertain about how biracial children will fare in this world.'

The wisdom of the Warren court is reflected two miles away, where a biracial child is faring pretty well in his second term in the Oval Office.

─ Maureen Dowd

*We actually do have longitudinal about the mental, emotional, and social health of children raised by gay and lesbian couples, dating back to the 1980s. I helped collect some of it during the 1970s.

I Love Sociology: "Urban Legends" Take Hold for a Reason

2013-03-25T10:30:00.000-04:00

Lots of wailing, whining, and gnashing of teeth in response to "urban legends" swiftly emerging regarding Pope Francis. John L. Allen, Jr. debunks a few in a National Catholic Reporter piece, "Debunking three 'urban legends' about Pope Francis."

Some have been characterized as "crude" and "cruel," especially by fans of the previous papacy. I confess to have recounted one in a recent post. In my own defense, please note I cite "reports" and provide a link, thus allowing my readers to track down the provenance of the quote.

I semi-digress.

The point I really want to make is one about why urban legends take hold and spread like wildfire. From the comment I left at NCR:

"Urban legends take hold for valid sociological reasons: they're signifiers. The fact that each of these gained swift traction reveals just how disgruntled and dismayed people have been with the previous papacy. I wish those who are so so outraged would think more meta-macro about what the popularity of these urban legends might say about what people are thinking and feeling."

Not the first time, nor the last I'll be wishing silently or out loud that people would think more sociologically, especially about current events.

Face Palm Sunday

2013-03-24T14:07:00.002-04:00

Holy Week Begins

Consider what it's like

for anyone raised Jewish. . .

Speaking and writing from experience? Holy Week generates quite a mash-up of emotions.