An Anglican Geek

Flat-Rate Tipping

2009-11-14T10:50:00.000-08:00

I don't understand tipping as a percentage of the amount owed to the restuarant. Does the server work harder when I order prime rib than when I order a burger? I don't think so; and yet, the bill for a burger will be half of that for prime rib. Add a few more people to the party (such as our family of soon-to-be-six), and the disparity can be even larger (particularly for my family, as we choose inexpensive dishes to spend as little as possible).

So I've started flat-rate tipping. For most restuarants, I tip at a rate of $5 per half-hour for good service, rounding up to the half-hour. For a typical Miller family meal, lasting between 45-60 minutes, I'll tip $10. I'll go higher or lower for exceptional or poor service, and I'll obviously increase the flat rate for fine dining. If, by some chance, my flat-rate tip was less than 20% of the bill, I'd bump it up. I don't think this is ideologically neccessary, but I just can't bring myself to under-tip, even according to "normal" expectations. I admire and respect the work that servers do, and I'm happy to pay well to be well-served.

"Does June make you feel bloggy?"

2009-06-21T17:07:00.001-07:00

Wife: "Does June make you feel bloggy?"

Ha-ha. She asked that because it has been exactly a year since I last posted to this 'blog (I've 'blogged elsewhere, briefly, in that time, but naturally they too were short-lived).

I have no intention of "restarting" this 'blog. I just felt like writing my last post, and this was the most convenient place. I might never write here again. The date was just a coincidence.

Feeling Guilty on this Lord's Day

2009-06-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

Trinity II, 2009

We woke up late this morning, at nine o'clock. That's normally when we need to be walking out the door to make it to the parish on time. Instead of rousing the kids and rushing to leave, we rolled over and went back to sleep. To Deedee's credit, she tried to get everyone up, but "sleepy Drew" won the battle.

That's pretty bad. But it's actually worse than it seems, because I went to sleep last night expecting this very thing would happen. I'd already accepted it. To at least a small extent, I was looking forward to it.

Sure, I had a nice list of excuses for staying home. Yesterday was a very long day (albeit a very fun one). I have a moderately bad sunburn. My diabetes is hitting me hard this week, most noticeably as severe headaches and shakes. I've slept very poorly this week (last night being the worst yet) and I'm exhausted.

Given time, I'm sure I could think of even more excuses.

But, as you've certainly surmised, that's not the reason I stayed home today. The reason is simple: I was lazy. I was sinfully and willfully disobedient to my Lord and to His Church. And I've felt guilty all day.

Given all the the Lord has done for me, and done for us all, this is ingratitude of the most severe sort. And while I leave all the blame where it squarely rests, with me, I know that there is a very real spiritual war going on, and that we (yes, that includes you) are the field of battle. Today went to the Enemy.

What's the point of all this? Well, it's what comes next. Or rather, it's what won't come next: admonishment. I expect our spiritual leaders, our Holy Clerics, to be active in the spiritual lives of those they shepherd. But none of the clergy I've known during my life would admonish someone for my sin today.

We know Jesus would have (we have some examples, after all). And so would the Holy Apostles and the saints. St. Paul writes about admonishment often (νουθεσίᾳ -- a word which would make for a great language study). I'll grant you that Christian admonishment must always be done in a spirit of love, meekly, and with deference to the Holy Spirit. But it must be done.

This is on my mind today not only because of my sin, but also because I've been praying and thinking about who God would have us call to be rector. We've spoken with two candidates, and I've spent some time with the third. I'm simultaneously dismayed and excited when considering them in this light.

I fear the first candidate is like all the priests I've know previously; I expect he'd shy away from admonishment. On the other hand, I'm certain the second candidate would admonish me (albeit in a loving, kindly, and pastoral manner). I'm really not sure about the third. I guess I'll just ask him when we see him in a few weeks.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Oops, I forgot to mention I moved the 'blog

2008-06-21T00:02:00.000-07:00

I moved my 'blog to http://anglicangeek.com (powered by Tumblr). I forgot to mention that here. Oops.

I've been posting over there since late March. It's where I announced the resumption of my postulancy. The new 'blog doesn't have comments (at least for now), but you can always email me or follow me on Twitter. There are links to both on the new 'blog.

Another One Bites The Dust

2007-11-25T18:37:00.000-08:00

THIS 'BLOG IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED.

I go through 'blogs like most women* go through purses. I've been a bit better with this 'blog than with most I've started in the past, but I've never written as regularly or as often as I'd intended. I've been thinking a lot about 'blogging the last few days, both generally and specifically (mine). Here's what I think.

All writing, journaling included, can be put into two categories: writing for others and writing for yourself. Most public 'blogs obviously fall into the latter category (why else make them public?). Of course, even writing for others can really be writing for yourself. You know what I'm talking about: vanity. But I digress.

When you write for others, you must consider your audience (or, if you don't yet have one, the one you want to attract). I've always felt awkward about 'blogging, because I don't have a real audience outside of my family and friends. And of the two types of 'blogs folks keep, mine aren't the type that suit family and friends.

What are those two types? They're journals and commentaries. I started this site as a journal, but then I never really journaled. And I haven't really written Anglican or geekly commentary. I do want to journal, but this isn't the best place for that. Our family 'blog is. So, I'm closing this 'blog and from now on I will journal at millermenagerie.com.

For the few who kept up with this 'blog, thanks. I hope you'll continue to do so over at the family 'blog.

* My woman -- er, wife -- doesn't even use a purse. And even when she did, she used the same one for years. I love Deedee.

St. Augustine on the spirit of gentleness

2007-10-28T01:45:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow (well, today in less than eight hours, actually) I'll lead the second session in my study of the Flesh and the Spirit in the writings of St. Paul.

In the first session, I tried to ask and answer questions about life in the Spirit: what is it, why do we want or need it, who is the Spirit, and how do we get him?

The second session will focus on the fruits of the spirit. Again, I'll approach the subject by asking and answering questions (or at least attempting to). What are the fruits of the spirit, both generally and specifically? Why do I need to know them? How do I bear them? How do I help my brothers and sisters in Christ bear them? How do they relate to the gifts of the Spirit?

I had originally planned to talk about the gifts of the Spirit next, but something I read by St. Augustine changed my mind:

"There is no surer test of the spiritual person than his treatment of another's sin. Note how he takes care to deliver the sinner rather than triumph over him, to help him rather than punish him and, so far as lies in his capacity, to support him." Epistle to the Galatians, 56.

As we discussed briefly last week, Christians today too often view their faith as an individual experience. Godly admonition is viewed as judgemental and unwarranted. But St. Paul clearly contradicts this notion, both in Galatians 6 and elsewhere. It is critical that we keep an eye to the fruits of both our Spirit-filled life and our brother's, so we can "restore him in a spirit of gentleness."

To bear the Spirit's fruit, we'll need the Spirit's gifts, both ours and our brother's. But that's for session three.

Why I'll never teach/lead a Bible class/study again

2007-10-21T00:35:00.000-07:00

This morning I taught/lead the third session of my Bible class/study on the Flesh and the Spirit in the writings of St. Paul. Only, it wasn't really the third session because I showed up way late for the first two. And, it isn't really a class 'cause teaching (in the traditional sense) just isn't my thing. Also, I didn't really lead the study, 'cause I'm not exactly a Pauline or New Testament scholar (in fact, I'm on the other end of that pole).

So it ended up being 45 minutes of me rambling and flitting around Scripture (to the extent my limited understanding allowed) and trying to coax people to join the discussion. Given all that, I thought it could have gone much worse, even if it wasn't that great. (Deedee mentioned that I spoke too fast and fell into my Southern manner of speech; I tend to do that when discussing a subject I'm passionate about).

Last night, around 2AM, as I was thinking about what I would actually talk about during the study, I decided that I'd never do this sort of thing again. In truth, I probably wouldn't have done it in the first place had Fr. Daniel not asked me to (I believe that when the Church calls, you answer, and so I agreed to lead the study). But, what's started is started, and so I'll run with this study until it finds it natural end (probably in November since I'm two weeks behind). But this will be my last Bible study/class.

That might sound odd coming from someone who until very recently aspired to be a deacon and who has committed himself to bringing others to faith in our Lord. Let me try to explain.

The problem is that I hate lectures. They aren't dynamic or interactive enough for me. I prefer an inquiry-driven or dialectical approach to learning. I don't want to just deposit knowledge into the learner. I want the learner to withdraw (or, even better, develop) the knowledge based on their exploration of and inquiry about the subject at hand. I don't really believe that we can teach one another; rather, I think at best we can facilitate a person teaching themself. I know this is somewhat controversial, and very few people I've explained this to agree with me.

This leads to another problem. That sort of facilitation requires a deep and thorough understanding of the subject at hand. And I just don't have that depth of knowledge of Holy Writ. I'm working hard to change that and I have a plan (as I'll explain in my next 'blog entry). But, today, right now, I'm just not qualified to edify, at least in a way I'm comfortable with.

So, what do I do?

As my knowledge of the Bible increases, and as I become more qualified to help others learn, I hope to host what I'd call "informal inquiries". The idea is to be available before and after the parish's services to answer whatever questions folks might have. Where Holy Scripture is concerned, one question, even if seemingly simple, can develop into a lifetime of study. If you truly explore just one question, I promise you'll never run out of subsequent questions.

But, you have to start with that first question. And that question needs to be something you care about, that you are passionate about, that you are prepared to invest time and energy in exploring and answering. I can't just give you a question like that; I don't think anyone can. But I'm going to work very hard so that I can help you explore and answer it.

I'm no longer working to be a deacon

2007-10-20T18:49:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I wrote that I'd been doubting my calling to Holy Orders. I also said that I would make a decision whether or not to continue my postulancy by the Autumn Ember Saturday. A few people have asked me what I decided, so here it is.

It so happened that our parish's spiritual retreat was on that Ember Saturday. This allowed me to spend most of the day in prayer and meditation about my calling. In the past, when I needed the Lord's guidance, I've always found it in prayer. But at the day's end, I still had no idea what I should do.

The next day, I decided the best course of action was to continue my postulancy and let things happen as they would (as my Baptist friend might say, "give it to the Lord"). The problem was, to do that, I'd have to ignore the growing conviction that I wasn't called, that I wasn't ready, and that most of the mission work I wanted to do didn't require ordination. I started to realize that I wasn't being honest with myself, and therefore I wasn't being honest with the Lord either. I'd let my fear of disappointing so many of the people in my life interfere with my judgement and doing what I knew to be right.

That realization finally took hold last week. Last Saturday I composed a letter to the Bishop informing him that I wanted to end my postulancy. But I didn't send the letter. I've been sitting on it for a week (a policy I've tried to adopt after sending a few embarrassing letters in the heat of the moment). But, I'm still convinced I should end my postulancy, so I sent the letter off today. I'm effectively no longer seeking ordination and no longer a postulant for Holy Orders.

This doesn't mean I won't continue to serve the Lord and His Church. I actually have the clearest goals and plan for that I've ever had. More on that tomorrow.

Thanks to all who've kept me in their prayers.

Eat your view

2007-10-20T12:21:00.000-07:00

I was listening to an NPR show on "green food" a few months ago and the narrator mentioned a slogan he heard during his travels: "eat your view". The idea is to eat locally grown produce, locally raised livestock, and other locally processed or produced foods (such as milk, cheeses, and bread). Although the movement to eat local is trendy right now, Deedee and I have tried to eat more local food for the past five years (we started this when we lived in Tallahassee, FL). It's been great, and I pray more people try it.

I mention this because lately I've been wanting to "take this up a notch," as an annoying celebrity chef might say. So, starting tomorrow and continuing through to our Thanksgiving meal, I'm only going to eat local foods. And I mean only local foods. If the food wasn't grown or raised here, or made from local ingredients, I won't eat it.

This will be a bit tough, because we are at the end of the harvest and many staple fruit and vegetables are now out of season (and, we haven't been very good about canning this year). Also, I don't know of any locally grown and milled grain, which puts bread right out. Aside from that, I can quite happily eat my view, and I'm really looking forward to it.

While I wouldn't expect anyone else to completely remove non-local food from their diet, if you're reading this I hope you will at least consider using local food for your Thanksgiving meal (or, if you don't observe the U.S. Thanksgiving, your next big Holiday feast or other celebratory meal). If you need ideas or help building a menu from local food, please let me know (either by leaving a comment or using the "Contact Me" link). I'd love to help.

In any case, I hope you'll keep "eat your view" in mind as you shop and eat in the future.

On Being and Feeling Called

2007-08-29T23:19:00.000-07:00

Imagine that a man named Joe Bob is chopping wood. There's a lot of wood, and Joe Bob doesn't think he'll finish before dark. So he calls his buddy Billy Ray over to help. Next imagine that a man named Bobby Jim, new to the scene, walks up with his own ax and starts chopping away. When Joe Bob and Billy Ray look puzzled, Bobby Jim says, "I felt called to help."

It's obvious that Billy Ray was called. And I think it's equally obvious that Bobby Jim wasn't called. If I were Joe Bob, I'd ask Bobby Jim a question. "Who do you feel is calling you? 'Cause it wasn't me."

I write this because lately I've been doubting my calling to Holy Orders. I feel like I'm a Bobby Jim. As far back as I can recall, no one has ever actually asked me to serve the church in this manner. No one has even suggested it. I've just always felt called. But can you really feel called without actually being called?

I've wrestled with this for a long time, but it was something that Father Pomroy said during my meeting with the Standing Committee that really stirred the pot. He basically said that it is the Church calls, and the Church discerns vocation. It's not the individual.

While this was in part a relief (I no longer had to worry so much about discerning my own vocation), it also raised this feeling called problem.

I'm really not sure what to do. It doesn't help that I've been feeling inadequate (I'm not even the kind of husband, parent, and layman I should be). I'm very close to just sending Archbishop Provence a letter to withdraw from my postulancy. But I worry that afterwards I'd still wrestle with feeling called.

Like my wife often says, I can't keep flip-flopping. So I'm going to make a commitment either to go forward with my postulancy or give up once and for all, and I'm going to do so by the upcoming Ember Saturday.

Please pray for me.

APCK's St. Joseph seminary opened to the ACC and UECNA

2007-08-03T11:53:00.000-07:00

While at my Diocese's first annual family camp last weekend, Archbishop Provence and I had a brief but very nice talk about my postulancy and about some of the recent events in the so-called Continuum (I hate that term so used). During that talk, the Archbishop told me that he has formally opened St. Joseph of Arimathea Anglican Theological College, the APCK's seminary, to postulants of the ACC and UECNA.

I think this is great news. When I was first wrestling with my aspiration to Holy Orders several years ago in the ACC, an option such as this might have changed the path I eventually took (eschewing a return to college to finish my baccalaureate degree). Of course, I have no regrets, for I "know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."

Deo gratia!

Twitter (Or, What I'm Doing)

2007-07-31T21:00:00.000-07:00

I haven't written here in quite some time. Until a month ago this was due to my hectic work schedule, but my new gig (working with the CodePlex team) affords me a bit more time. Since then, the principal reason for my 'blog inactivity has been the amount of information I need to share to catch up. The length and content of a catch-up 'blog entry daunts me.

But that is for another day. Right now I want to talk about Twitter.

Twitter is a website that asks, "What are you doing?" and shares the answers with others. These answers are called "tweets" and are a way for your friends and family to keep up with what you are doing, day to day. Now that I'm tweeting, I plan to use the 'blog for more "developed" writing and use Twitter for the small, transient stuff. Bottom line, if you are curious what I'm doing, read my tweets. And give Twitter a try yourself; it's fun!

Archbishop-elect Provence

2007-06-29T15:37:00.000-07:00

I've been told that Bishop Provence was elected to be the next Archbishop of the APCK.

An APCK Diocese Afoot?

2007-06-24T14:38:00.000-07:00

It's been a very long time since I've published anything here. I'd already planned to write a few things today if I could afford the time, but after reading an email last night I decided to write first and tend the day's chores later. What was in this email that so convicted me?

According to an article by David Virtue, Bishop Florenza of the APCK's Diocese of the Eastern States has declared his Diocese to be in "a state of genuine unity and full communion" with the ACA.

I'd like to know what "a state of genuine unity and full communion" means. How does "genuine unity" differ from organic unity? If it does not (and that would be my understanding of the plain English), "full communion" is implicit. If they are the same, has Bishop Florenza already effectively declared his Diocese's move to the ACA? Can a Diocese exist in two jurisdictions?

I realize these are questions for Bishop Florenza, but I cannot help but think aloud. The sordid history of continuing Anglicanism and its continued disunity are shameful. I hope and pray this latest event is different, but if this is indeed a "unilateral" action as some have suggested, I fear it will only worsen "the brokenness of our witness for Christ as traditional Anglicans" that Bishop Florenza reportedly criticizes.

As I mentioned in a comment on the Continuum, I'm all for decreasing the number of petty kingdoms that exist in continuing Anglicanism. But I don't see how this action will change that number unless it results in the APCK in its entirety moving toward organic unity with the ACA. And, if the APCK were willing to make such a move, would the ACA be the best destination? I think the ACC or the UECNA, both having a much clearer tie to St. Louis and Denver, would be better destinations for such a move.

June 29th was a big day already, but it'll be even more interesting to learn what happens in Oakland now.

A week of Interviews

2007-04-26T06:59:00.000-07:00

I think I've had an interview every day this week so far. They've all been informal interviews with other groups at Microsoft. I'm trying to find my long-term gig there; I hope to find something that'll let me be as active at the parish as I'd like. I have a second interview on Friday for a gig I would really enjoy.

I also have an interview with Bishop Provence (about my aspiration to the diaconate) Saturday. I'm really looking forward to meeting and talking with the Bishop.

I should mention that I learned last week I won't be going to synod this year to be interviewed by the Standing Committee. Aspirants are required to have been members of a parish for one year before consideration for postulancy (which is quite reasonable). As I'm being received into the Anglican Province of Christ the King and into the parish this weekend, I'll have to wait until next year's synod.

Some folks have asked me if this delay disappoints me. My answer is, not at all. If I'm not willing to do things on God's time-table, I shouldn't have this aspiration to start with. Anyway, I knew that changing jurisdictions would cause another delay. God knows, and does, what's best.

The Sarum Missal, Online

2007-04-15T23:34:00.000-07:00

After doing some (unfortunately) brief research in the Sarum Missal, I thought it would be nice to share some links to online editions of the missal for those few folks who read this 'blog. Here they are:

The Ancient Liturgy of the Church of England, Maskell

The Liturgy of the Church of Sarum, Walker

Ordinary and Canon of the Mass, According to the Use of the Church of Sarum, Dodd

The Ordinary of the Mass (Latin)

The Canon of the Mass (Latin)

The Sarum Missal in English

First Sunday after Easter

2007-04-15T20:33:00.000-07:00

This morning's celebration of Holy Communion began with my favorite hymn: number 87 ("Welcome, happy morning!"). It was sung often at the parish of my youth and it's still a joy to sing. I love its melody, its energy, and that it's full of doctrinal goodness. There were many voices behind me (I sat in the front pew) and J. played it perfectly; it was a real treat.

Twenty minutes earlier, I wouldn't have bet that there would be so many voices. As we drove into the parking lot, we saw only a few cars; I mentioned to Deirdre that today is also called Low Sunday, and that the turnout might match that name. I guess folks just arrived a bit later than usual, because by the time Fr. McGrath and the acolytes processed into the sanctuary, the nave was nicely full.

(Incidentally, I was taught that few scholars actually believe the "Low" of "Low Sunday" has anything to with attendance, but that it's more likely derived from the old sequentia of the day, which started with "laudes". Wikipedia mentions this as well.)

We sang two other powerful Easter hymns today also: number 99 ("O sons and daughters, let us sing!") and number 89 ("At the Lamb's high feast we sing"). Good stuff.

After Holy Communion and an hour or so of socializing downstairs, the ACW met. As when they last met, I was left to watch some of the younger children, including Prudence, Newton, L. and D. They were well-behaved and I enjoyed my time with them.

A parting conversation with Fr. McGrath reminded me that the synod is fast approaching. I'm due to be interviewed by the diocese's Standing Committee there as an aspirant to the diaconate. I don't know what preparation is required or expected, but whatever it is I need to get busy. Please pray that I discern and obey our Lord's will in this matter.

Lastly, I wrote back on Tuesday that I'd describe an interesting liturgical scenario that arose on Easter Monday. Last week was the end of a really tough, month-long push at work to wrap up a project, and I just haven't had much time or energy to sit down and write. I'll make the time and muster the energy tomorrow (I have to do so for the taxes, anyway).

Easter Tuesday

2007-04-10T21:48:00.000-07:00

I missed Matins and Ante-Communion again today because I overslept. Domine mei miserere. And, sadly, I won't be able to attend Matins until Friday because I have an early meeting tomorrow and Thursday.

It was just me and Fr. McGrath again tonight at Evensong. G. was hosting an out-of-town visitor but Fr. McGrath expects he'll again be attending the evening service soon. It's so great that G. so regularly attends the Daily Office; Fr. McGrath deserves the company (and I just haven't been very consistent about attending).

Tonight's Evensong was remarkably short; in fact, Fr. McGrath remarked that it lasted only fifteen minutes (and that included singing the Phos Hilaron again, which I actually managed to sing worse than last night). The lessons were pretty short (the first, from Isaiah, particularly so) and we didn't waste words moving along the service (no "turn to page so-and-so" and "let us say this-and-that"). There wasn't a need with just us two.

An interesting liturgical question came up last and this night, but my battery is about to run out so I need to click "Publish" right now. I'll write about it tomorrow.

Easter Monday

2007-04-09T23:28:00.000-07:00

I think today was the first time I've ever been to a service on Easter Monday. I don't even know what the importance of today is. A cursory search of the web didn't help much; I learned of numerous activities and traditions (my favorite was how, according to a Canadian site, men would mist their wives with perfumed water blessed on Easter Day and say, "May you never wither"), but I didn't really find anything of theological or doctrinal significance. As best I can tell, Easter Monday (a government holiday in many countries) became increasingly important as the start of the week-long festivities celebrating of our Lord's resurrection, particularly in European nations.

I didn't wake up in time for Matins (which is a shame, because Fr. McGrath sent an email last week saying there would be Ante-Communion), but I did get away from work in time for Evensong. I even found a new bus route to take from the Microsoft main campus: MT 232. I can leave the office at 4: 45 PM and still make the start of Evensong, which is great. I wish it ran that direction in the morning.

It was just the two of us tonight (it's odd not to see G. there; he's become like a fixture!). We sang the Phos Hilaron at the end, which was good (in that I love it and need the practice) and bad (in that I really struggled with it). Fr. McGrath was kind to ferry me back to work.

I came home to spaghetti with a tomato sauce, my favorite food! Thanks Deirdre, my love!

A Counterblaste to Tobacco

2007-04-08T21:30:00.000-07:00

Should I ever doubt that we've long known tobacco was bad, I'll simply return to this book written by King James I in 1604, A Counterblaste to Tobacco.

The text exemplifies Jacobean writing so well, wherein King James describes smoking tobacco as a "custome lothsome to the eye, hatefull to the Nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the Lungs, and in the blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomelesse."

Good stuff.

Easter Day

2007-04-08T18:58:00.000-07:00

I know that my redeemer liveth

What a glorious Pascha!

We started the day by waking at four o'clock so that we would arrive at the parish in time for the six o'clock "sunrise" celebration of Holy Communion. It was odd driving to Woodinville from Kent at that early hour. There were almost no other cars on the road, so we made the trek in remarkable time. The kids slept in the car (and in fact slept through all of Holy Communion).

Shortly after arriving, Bill and I "suited up" to serve at the Lord's Table. Bill served as crucifer and Epistler, and I as thurifer and lector (Fr. McGrath combined Matins and Holy Communion, as he often does for feasts). I read from Exodus xii, wherein Moses and Aaron instruct the Israelites regarding the Passover. It's good stuff, and although I wasn't prepared to read it (I had prepared instead to read the Eptistle), that portion of Holy Scripture is familiar enough to me that I limped by.

This morning was only the second time I've served as thurifer (the first being only a few days ago on Maundy Thursday), and I did about as well as you might expect. I love incense in spite of my "low church" rearing, so I look forward to growing comfortable with the thurible. Fortunately, I have some fairly detailed notes for thurifers from my days at the Scott School. I'll have to find them.

Unfortunately, there were very few people present to see my missteps. In fact, there were only three people in the nave (and one was Deirdre). Normally, when there are as many people in the sanctuary as in the nave, I'd say there's a problem. But, at a sunrise service, I guess it's to be expected.

(Fr. McGrath told me at dinner that there were 80 people at the later celebration of Holy Communion, more than twenty of which were children. Praise God! I wish I'd been able to stay to see and hear the happy throng.)

After a beautiful and moving celebration of Holy Communion, during which Kathy played the harp and Fr. McGrath delivered a great sermon on what it means to be Resurrected, we gathered downstairs for breakfast. Fr. McGrath's wife and kids arrived just in time, which made Prudence very happy (once she finally awoke). We brought croissants (three dozen!) and others brought meat, cheese, boiled eggs, cream cheese, orange marmalade, yogurt, and juice. It was a wonderful time of fellowship, a meal shared with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I wish we could come to together to share a table in community like that every day.

We departed the parish for home after breakfast so that we could clean the house and prepare food in advance of the McGraths' and Deirdre's mother's arrival, who were visiting us for dinner later in the early afternoon. I prepared braised lamb chops, mashed potatoes, maple glazed carrots, roasted Brussels sprouts, and a whole wheat loaf. Deirdre contributed an apple pie. It was good, if by no other indication than the lack of leftovers afterwards. After dinner, Fr. McGrath and I spoke a bit about my aspiration to the diaconate, a bit about the parish, and a bit about ecclesia et via Anglicana. It was yet another magnificent time of fellowship spent with beloved friends and our family in Christ.

We then met the McGraths one last time, barely an hour after they left our house, at the parish for Evensong. Only our two families were present, but Fr. McGrath's wife played the organ anyway, and I'm glad she did. It was a wonderful way to finish the day.

I have hours of work I could (and probably should) do before tomorrow morning, but I'm not going to. This day has been as close to perfect as any in a very long time. We celebrated our risen Lord's triumph over death, we twice shared a table in fellowship with our Christian brethren, I had a great talk with a new friend, and I enjoyed more time with my wife and children than I've been able to in weeks.

O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is gracious

Easter Even

2007-04-07T20:11:00.001-07:00

Today was a relaxed day compared to the previous six of Holy Week. I only travelled to church once, and I only worked for a couple of hours. In fact, today was too relaxed; I waited too long to leave for church this evening and, consequently, arrived a few minutes late for Evensong.

I think Fr. McGrath and Bill were ready to go on without me, but I vested anyway. Bill read the service and I read the lessons. Like all of the lessons during Holy Week, they were outstanding.

The first lesson was from Job xix, at the end of which Job expresses his faith in the bodily resurrection and of being in the physical presence of his Lord at the end of the world.

"For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." Job xix. 24-25.

The second lesson, from Romans vi, was St. Paul's wonderful explication of what it means to be baptized into our Lord, how it means we are also "baptized into his death" so that we are "freed from sin." The lesson builds to St. Paul's powerful, if not difficult, challenge:

"For in that he died, he died unto sin once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans vi. 10-11.

Sounds easy, until you really ponder its meaning. The first half of the next verse, I think, would have been a nice addition, and would have driven home the implication: "Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body."

After the conclusion of Evensong, I put the cassock and surplice up and returned to the pews for the remainder of the service: the Lighting of the New Fire, Ante-Communion, and renewal of our Baptismal vows. We actually gathered in the narthex, where I noticed that Fr. McGrath had change into his alb and cope, and Bill into his alb. (The change from cassock and surplice to alb seemed very appropriate, and brought to my mind the catechumens of old, dressed all in white on Holy Saturday, fasting and being exorcised, awaiting Baptism at at the break of dawn).

I've never actually attended an enkindling of the paschal candle; the church of my youth was quite "low." It was disucssed and demonstrated briefly at the Scott School, but only briefly. I must say that it was a new and wonderful experience. I particularly relished Fr. McGrath's singing of the Exultet. I just closed my eyes and drifted off, carried by the tune and the mighty words.

Another highlight of the evening was singing the Phos Hilaron. I say signing, but for me it was really more like baying. I sing poorly in general, but I especially struggle with the Phos Hilaron. It's sad, especially, because I enjoy it so much.

After Ante-Communion, we corporately renewed our Baptismal vows. I'm not sure where Fr. McGrath obtained this short liturgy (or whether he himself composed it), but it was basically the Apostles' Creed as challenges and responses. It was very nice, and was another liturgical "extra" I've not previously experienced.

As I left the parish, I heard the beautiful sounds of Kathy's harp and Fr. McGrath's tenor preparing for the morning Mass.

Alas! I just realized that I forgot to take my St. Augustine's prayer book with me tonight to read the Stations of the Cross. Ah well, it'll be a devotion for next Friday, I suppose.

Good Friday

2007-04-06T23:28:00.000-07:00

For the last several years, I've skipped all or most of the workday on Good Friday to attend the so-called three-hour service (or, if you prefer, the Good Friday vigil). At my last parish, this service consisted of the Morning Office, spoken; Ante-Communion (without the priest receiving from the Reserved Sacrament, as is often done); the Stations of the Cross; the Seven Last Words from the Cross; and a simple, spoken Evening Office. Today's service at our new parish was similar, and yet remarkable.

It was similar in structure and in content. The Morning Office was omitted, having been said earlier in the day. Instead of Ante-Communion, Fr. McGrath began with what he called the "Good Friday Service Proper", which included reading the Collect, Epistle, and Gospel for Good Friday. (I read the Epistle, Hebrews x, and unfortunately did so poorly, in spite of a more than usual amount of preparation; Hebrews is tough). While there is certainly something positive to be said about the impact of isolating of the Propers, I think I would have preferred Ante-Communion. Perhaps I'm just a creature of comfort and habit.

Then, after a short opportunity for silent prayer and meditation, Fr. McGrath began a program of the Seven Last Words from the Cross, itself based on a program produced by the Rev'd Dr. Toon. Fr. McGrath inserted some additional collects, and more importantly (to me at least) included a portion of Hymn 82 after each of the "Words." So, every 15 minutes, Fr. McGrath would open with a collect, recite the "Words", recite the brief homily and prayer from the Rev'd Dr. Toon's program, lead us in a portion of Hymn 82, and then provide us an opportunity for silent prayer and meditation before the next "Words."

It was remarkable. I've participated in several Seven Last Words from the Cross programs in the past, at times as a reader, but I've never been as moved, or perhaps to put it better, as taken, than with this one. The pacing was perfect; the content was poignant, taking my mind to the Cross; and the Hymn was moving, taking my heart there also. The time between readings was enough to let the Spirit do His work, but not so much that the mind wandered. Including myself, there were only three persons in the nave; that's a pity, and our parishioners just don't know what they missed.

After the seventh of the "Words," Bill and I read the Evening Office. Actually, Fr. McGrath preferred that I begin directly with the proper Psalms, so it was only "sort of" the Evening Office. We slipped up and wore our surplices, but such is life. It was fortunate that Bill read the lessons, for they weren't the easiest. I enjoyed Bill's reading; the Good Friday evening lessons are actually one of my favorite sets. The correlation between Isaiah lii-liii and I St. Peter ii is awesome. The language of both is poetic without being repetitive or superfluous. Again, it's a shame more folks weren't present.

The Evening Office concluded the service. I must say that I missed the Stations of the Cross. Of all of the liturgical "extras" to be had in Anglicanism, this is the one I remember doing earliest. The dear old priest of my childhood taught me the stations, and this came during the time when I first considered devoting my life to the service of the Lord. I guess they just have a special place in my heart. I think I'll take my copy of the stations to church tomorrow and find some time to read them, if Fr. McGrath will allow me.

Good Friday has always been a bit tough for me; I agonize and feel puny when I try to understand the magnitude of our Lord's passion and sacrifice, and when I ponder the Cross. I usually have to hold back the tears. Not so today; and yet, I think I felt it more deeply than ever before. It certainly stayed with me longer. Once I returned to work (I had a major deadline today, which I missed in part because I took most of the day off), I just couldn't get my mind off of the Cross.

I still can't. I look forward to Easter, as I always do, but I wish I had more time to pray and meditate about the Cross. I feel as if I'm on the edge of something, but I can't explain what it is because it remains just out of my mind's reach. It's as if I can see headlights coming, but I cannot yet make out the vehicle that bears them. It's odd and hard to describe. Perhaps tomorrow will bring more understanding.

A last note before I sleep: tonight, Prudence recited almost all of the Lord's Prayer with Deirdre. We've only been working with her on this for a week now. I know this is no special feat for a three-year-old, but it still warms my heart and makes me proud. I didn't know the Lord's Prayer until grade school; Deirdre didn't know it until Confirmation. Prudence is such a joy, and such a blessing from God.

First Entry

2007-04-06T22:29:00.000-07:00

Both the rector and a long-time, dedicated parishioner our new parish, St. Bartholomew's, have blogs here on ~~Blogspot~~ Blogger, so I decided to start one as well. Unlike theirs, I don't expect my blog to be of much interest to anyone; I intended to use it strictly as a personal journal.