It's funny Choral Girl started this meme today, because this morning I led a hymn sing at a local nursing home, which meant singing a lot of schmaltzy, old-timey stuff like In the Garden, The Old Rugged Cross, The Church in the Wildwood, Blessed Assurance, Battle Hymn of the Republic, etc, because that's what the folks there love to sing, those are the hymns that most shaped them, the songs they learned in the cradle and are taking with them all the way to the grave. Since tomorrow is Reformation Day, I did throw in A Mighty Fortress for the sake of any Lutherans in the bunch, because I hope that someone will come and sing A Mighty Fortress with me when I can no longer get to church on Reformation Day.
In any case, that got me to thinking, on the drive back to church, as to just what hymns will be sung at nursing homes by the time I'm rolling around in one. Because, with all due respect to my elders today, I don't want to be singing In the Garden 50 years from now - it's just not a hymn that I find inspiring, comforting, or life-defining in any way.
But there are so many other hymns that have shaped me and continue to hold strong influence over my life. . .so, I need some time to think about it, but CG I consider myself tagged.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Get On the Bus
In honor of Wellstone World Music Day (and the sixth anniversary of Paul and Sheila's death), I want to tell my favorite Wellstone story:
He was up for re-election when I was a sophomore in college. One fall weekend, supporters were doing a blitz of fundraisers, and Paul and Sheila were trying to actually be present at a fair number of them. Of course, it was a no-brainer that they would be at the Northfield event. The St. Olaf College Democrats had worked our tushies off and registered over 1,000 students to vote, so we were invited to the event for free, as a thank-you for our efforts.
I got to meet Paul for like, two seconds, at the event itself. But he and his staff happened to be leaving around the same time that our group was. It was raining, and we had a long walk up the hill to get back on campus. Paul looked at us and asked "Are you all going back to Olaf?" We nodded our heads. "Get on the bus," he waved us over, "I'll give you a ride."
We were all in 7th heaven, of course, to be riding the green bus with Senator Wellstone! But then what happened next was even cooler, and affirmed in my mind why I was so proud to have this man represent us in Washington. This was right around the time that Bob Dole (who was running for president against Clinton) had fallen off a platform in Iowa, and somebody among our college group started ripping on Dole and specifically brought that incident up as evidence why he shouldn't be president. Senator Wellstone shut them down right away, and said "Hey, that's not cool. That podium was unstable, and that could have happened to any one of us - Senator Dole is a good man, and he could have been seriously hurt. That's nothing to joke around about."
I supported Wellstone all those years because he was a man who stood up for what he believed in, even if it made him unpopular. He was a man who stood up for what was just and fair, a man who gave a voice to the voiceless, who defended the defenseless, a man who deeply respected and reached out to those who disagreed with him. I loved and respected him because he asked us to be better people, as individuals and as a nation; he held us to a high standard of involvement in our country and our shared future, and an equally high standard of compassion and care for the most vulnerable and struggling among us.
In that moment, on that bus, he was all of those things - he was surrounded by his own staff and a group of college kids who adored him - no one was going to tell the press if he had let those comments about Dole fly or had even joined in on them. But instead he shut down his own supporters and spoke up for a man who was his ideological opposite and often his enemy on the Senate floor, a man who had recently been publicly humiliated through no fault of his own. He asked us that day to be better than the partisan politics and ad hominum attacks so typical in most (if not all) elections, asked us to remember that Senator Dole was first and foremost a fellow human being who deserved our compassion, not our mockery.
That's who the Senate, and the world, have been missing these last six years. And that, more than anything, is why I've been such an ardent supporter of Senator Obama since he first entered the race for president (and really, since I became aware of him in 2004). Because I see in him the same qualities as I saw in Senator Wellstone - that same passion for justice and fairness, that same voice for the most vulnerable, that same conviction to stand strong for what he believes, that same respect and engagement of those who think differently than him, that same invitation to participate in our shared life and future together, that same expectation to act in accordance with the better angels of our nature. . .
It's twelve years later, and I'm still on the bus, Senator Wellstone. And for the first time in a long time, I'm feeling really encouraged because there's so many other folks now riding it with me, and we're driving down a road called HOPE.
Keeping the faith,
C.
He was up for re-election when I was a sophomore in college. One fall weekend, supporters were doing a blitz of fundraisers, and Paul and Sheila were trying to actually be present at a fair number of them. Of course, it was a no-brainer that they would be at the Northfield event. The St. Olaf College Democrats had worked our tushies off and registered over 1,000 students to vote, so we were invited to the event for free, as a thank-you for our efforts.
I got to meet Paul for like, two seconds, at the event itself. But he and his staff happened to be leaving around the same time that our group was. It was raining, and we had a long walk up the hill to get back on campus. Paul looked at us and asked "Are you all going back to Olaf?" We nodded our heads. "Get on the bus," he waved us over, "I'll give you a ride."
We were all in 7th heaven, of course, to be riding the green bus with Senator Wellstone! But then what happened next was even cooler, and affirmed in my mind why I was so proud to have this man represent us in Washington. This was right around the time that Bob Dole (who was running for president against Clinton) had fallen off a platform in Iowa, and somebody among our college group started ripping on Dole and specifically brought that incident up as evidence why he shouldn't be president. Senator Wellstone shut them down right away, and said "Hey, that's not cool. That podium was unstable, and that could have happened to any one of us - Senator Dole is a good man, and he could have been seriously hurt. That's nothing to joke around about."
I supported Wellstone all those years because he was a man who stood up for what he believed in, even if it made him unpopular. He was a man who stood up for what was just and fair, a man who gave a voice to the voiceless, who defended the defenseless, a man who deeply respected and reached out to those who disagreed with him. I loved and respected him because he asked us to be better people, as individuals and as a nation; he held us to a high standard of involvement in our country and our shared future, and an equally high standard of compassion and care for the most vulnerable and struggling among us.
In that moment, on that bus, he was all of those things - he was surrounded by his own staff and a group of college kids who adored him - no one was going to tell the press if he had let those comments about Dole fly or had even joined in on them. But instead he shut down his own supporters and spoke up for a man who was his ideological opposite and often his enemy on the Senate floor, a man who had recently been publicly humiliated through no fault of his own. He asked us that day to be better than the partisan politics and ad hominum attacks so typical in most (if not all) elections, asked us to remember that Senator Dole was first and foremost a fellow human being who deserved our compassion, not our mockery.
That's who the Senate, and the world, have been missing these last six years. And that, more than anything, is why I've been such an ardent supporter of Senator Obama since he first entered the race for president (and really, since I became aware of him in 2004). Because I see in him the same qualities as I saw in Senator Wellstone - that same passion for justice and fairness, that same voice for the most vulnerable, that same conviction to stand strong for what he believes, that same respect and engagement of those who think differently than him, that same invitation to participate in our shared life and future together, that same expectation to act in accordance with the better angels of our nature. . .
It's twelve years later, and I'm still on the bus, Senator Wellstone. And for the first time in a long time, I'm feeling really encouraged because there's so many other folks now riding it with me, and we're driving down a road called HOPE.
Keeping the faith,
C.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Deep Economic and Philosophical Question Part II
I keep seeing commercials lately deriding Obama's "lack of executive experience."
Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it unquestioned "executive experience" (in the White House, on Wall Street) that got us into the current economic nightmare (not to mention the war in Iraq)?
Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it unquestioned "executive experience" (in the White House, on Wall Street) that got us into the current economic nightmare (not to mention the war in Iraq)?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Adventures in Live Performance
This weekend has been kinda rough for the chorale. I originally thought the most exciting/anxiety-provoking thing I'd have to report from our concerts was the missed cue in the Rutter yesterday (which wasn't really that big of a deal, we recovered by the next entrance and only those who know the piece well would have noticed).
But then this afternoon one of the basses passed out during the Agnus Dei (also during the Rutter). We were rocking that movement today and we'd just finished the most intense and built-up part of it when I saw a flutter of movement out of the corner of my eye, then heard a tremendous thud, and when I looked over toward the source of both noise and movement, there was one of the basses, flat on his face on the floor, not moving at all, and his fellow basses were getting down off the risers and onto the floor next to him to see if he was alright. Bill stopped the orchestra, and when his comrades rolled him over, his glasses were broke, his face was bleeding, and from where I was it was hard to see if he was breathing. Another bass pulled out his cell phone and called 911, and there were some tense moments as we waited to see what was going on. Thankfully, the three doctors in the house (one in the chorale, one in the orchestra, one in the audience) all came to his aid right away. And thankfully, he regained consciousness quickly. And thankfully, it happened during the first half of the concert, when there was space in which to fall. During the Gounod we had a larger orchestra, with instrumentalists all the way up to where the risers began - had he fainted then he would have fallen into the French Horns and may have hurt himself even more seriously (as of now it seems he has only suffered a broken nose and the embarrassment of the whole situation).
We took an intermission so the first sopranos' riser could be moved to give the paramedics access, they braced his neck and took him out on a stretcher and were going to check him out further at the hospital. Then, as they say, the show must go on, so we started the movement over and finished the first half of the concert without further incident. During the second half, I noticed a lot more squeaking noises coming from the risers than normal - I think we were all a little paranoid of being the next person to pass out, so we were consciously shifting our weight and wiggling our toes and bending our knees.
So, that's the big excitement in the Valley this weekend. Hopefully the next concert will be as musically dramatic but less personally dramatic!
But then this afternoon one of the basses passed out during the Agnus Dei (also during the Rutter). We were rocking that movement today and we'd just finished the most intense and built-up part of it when I saw a flutter of movement out of the corner of my eye, then heard a tremendous thud, and when I looked over toward the source of both noise and movement, there was one of the basses, flat on his face on the floor, not moving at all, and his fellow basses were getting down off the risers and onto the floor next to him to see if he was alright. Bill stopped the orchestra, and when his comrades rolled him over, his glasses were broke, his face was bleeding, and from where I was it was hard to see if he was breathing. Another bass pulled out his cell phone and called 911, and there were some tense moments as we waited to see what was going on. Thankfully, the three doctors in the house (one in the chorale, one in the orchestra, one in the audience) all came to his aid right away. And thankfully, he regained consciousness quickly. And thankfully, it happened during the first half of the concert, when there was space in which to fall. During the Gounod we had a larger orchestra, with instrumentalists all the way up to where the risers began - had he fainted then he would have fallen into the French Horns and may have hurt himself even more seriously (as of now it seems he has only suffered a broken nose and the embarrassment of the whole situation).
We took an intermission so the first sopranos' riser could be moved to give the paramedics access, they braced his neck and took him out on a stretcher and were going to check him out further at the hospital. Then, as they say, the show must go on, so we started the movement over and finished the first half of the concert without further incident. During the second half, I noticed a lot more squeaking noises coming from the risers than normal - I think we were all a little paranoid of being the next person to pass out, so we were consciously shifting our weight and wiggling our toes and bending our knees.
So, that's the big excitement in the Valley this weekend. Hopefully the next concert will be as musically dramatic but less personally dramatic!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Deep Economic and Philosophical Question for the Night
Why is it only labeled "class warfare" when the poor and middle class ask for a fair and equal share of wealth and power, and not when the wealthy consistently exempt themselves from sacrifice and abuse their power and wealth to oppress the majority of the world?
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
City Mouse for a Day
I took a much needed mental health day and went to see Sarah and Rob in the Big Apple yesterday. Unfortunately, Mondays are sort of quiet days for the city that never sleeps (exacerbated in this case by the Columbus Day holiday) - most museums and restaurants are closed, and while I don't begrudge these folks a day of rest, I find it a bummer that our Sabbaths coincide.
I still had a great time, however. I got to town in time for lunch, then Sarah and I walked to Grant's Tomb, took some pictures on the funky mosaic benches outside, and read the displays inside the classical-looking tomb. On the walk back, I was thinking one of the buildings we passed looked familiar, and Sarah asked if I had seen Enchanted. Turns out, the end of their block was featured heavily in the movie, and for as often as I've been to visit them, I am totally embarrassed that I did not recognize that when I was watching the movie. Ah well. . .
We had wanted to go the the Cloisters as well, and were hoping it would be open, since the Met itself was open especially for the holiday. Alas, the Cloisters were closed. So we just hung out around the apartment visiting until Rob came home from a meeting, then we planned to go to dinner at a pizza place they wanted to try on the lower East Side. Alas, the pizza place is not open on Mondays. So instead we went to an excellent Thai restaurant in Union Square, then digested a bit while feeding my addiction at the Strand (what's not to love about 18 miles of books?!), then walked to the Dessert Truck, which sells a deliciously decadent molten chocolate cake - Sarah and I split one, which was a good thing - it was so rich, I think I would have been sick had I tried eating a whole one by myself. On the walk back to the subway, we noticed the Empire State Building was lit up in green, white, and red, for Columbus Day, so Sarah and I said a little cheer for our fellow paisan, even though his claim to fame is rather dubious (my Norwegian friends are adamant that the Vikings got here first).
Today on my way out of town I did the NBC studio tour, which is a worthwhile tourist trap. We got to see the studio for the NBC Nightly News and MSNBC and the infamous Studio 8H (another pilgrimage complete), and learn all sorts of cool and interesting things along the way (like, that Brian Williams is in his suit and makeup first thing in the morning so he is camera-ready in case a story breaks during daytime programming, and that he stands at the beginning of each newscast in homage to the Huntley-Brinkley Report, who did their whole news program standing; or that each cast member and guest on SNL has a facial cast/bust made of them so the make-up artists can work on make-up design and prosthetic pieces without pulling the actors out of rehearsal).
Then I stopped by the public library to try and see the original Pooh, but he is temporarily not on display. So I looked at a small exhibit on art deco design instead, then headed for Penn Station. Along the way, I'm pretty sure I passed a film crew of some sort - lots of cameras and people and directors chairs, but no title on the back of the chairs, and no luminaries that I recognized. It could have been for a movie, or could have been a location shot for a NY-based TV show - it was right outside the au bon pain on 5th Ave, near the Empire State Building, and seemed to involve a bus.
So, that was my day and a half in New York, which was beautiful and went all too quickly, as usual. The drive was also particularly beautiful this time - the trees are pretty close to peak color in eastern PA.
And, total aside - my train reading this time was A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. My copy has an introduction by Walker Percy, who was apparently instrumental in getting the book published a decade after the author's death. Percy makes particular mention that a character like Ignatius J. Reilly was rather unprecedented at the time of the book's writing (in the early 60s). . .but as I read (about halfway through right now) it occurs to me that Ignatius certainly seems to have some contemporaries here in the early 21st century. . .his lambasting diatribes and ridiculous rhetoric are reminiscent of a certain O'Reilly over on FOXNews, as well as Stephen Colbert's satirical persona.
I still had a great time, however. I got to town in time for lunch, then Sarah and I walked to Grant's Tomb, took some pictures on the funky mosaic benches outside, and read the displays inside the classical-looking tomb. On the walk back, I was thinking one of the buildings we passed looked familiar, and Sarah asked if I had seen Enchanted. Turns out, the end of their block was featured heavily in the movie, and for as often as I've been to visit them, I am totally embarrassed that I did not recognize that when I was watching the movie. Ah well. . .
We had wanted to go the the Cloisters as well, and were hoping it would be open, since the Met itself was open especially for the holiday. Alas, the Cloisters were closed. So we just hung out around the apartment visiting until Rob came home from a meeting, then we planned to go to dinner at a pizza place they wanted to try on the lower East Side. Alas, the pizza place is not open on Mondays. So instead we went to an excellent Thai restaurant in Union Square, then digested a bit while feeding my addiction at the Strand (what's not to love about 18 miles of books?!), then walked to the Dessert Truck, which sells a deliciously decadent molten chocolate cake - Sarah and I split one, which was a good thing - it was so rich, I think I would have been sick had I tried eating a whole one by myself. On the walk back to the subway, we noticed the Empire State Building was lit up in green, white, and red, for Columbus Day, so Sarah and I said a little cheer for our fellow paisan, even though his claim to fame is rather dubious (my Norwegian friends are adamant that the Vikings got here first).
Today on my way out of town I did the NBC studio tour, which is a worthwhile tourist trap. We got to see the studio for the NBC Nightly News and MSNBC and the infamous Studio 8H (another pilgrimage complete), and learn all sorts of cool and interesting things along the way (like, that Brian Williams is in his suit and makeup first thing in the morning so he is camera-ready in case a story breaks during daytime programming, and that he stands at the beginning of each newscast in homage to the Huntley-Brinkley Report, who did their whole news program standing; or that each cast member and guest on SNL has a facial cast/bust made of them so the make-up artists can work on make-up design and prosthetic pieces without pulling the actors out of rehearsal).
Then I stopped by the public library to try and see the original Pooh, but he is temporarily not on display. So I looked at a small exhibit on art deco design instead, then headed for Penn Station. Along the way, I'm pretty sure I passed a film crew of some sort - lots of cameras and people and directors chairs, but no title on the back of the chairs, and no luminaries that I recognized. It could have been for a movie, or could have been a location shot for a NY-based TV show - it was right outside the au bon pain on 5th Ave, near the Empire State Building, and seemed to involve a bus.
So, that was my day and a half in New York, which was beautiful and went all too quickly, as usual. The drive was also particularly beautiful this time - the trees are pretty close to peak color in eastern PA.
And, total aside - my train reading this time was A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. My copy has an introduction by Walker Percy, who was apparently instrumental in getting the book published a decade after the author's death. Percy makes particular mention that a character like Ignatius J. Reilly was rather unprecedented at the time of the book's writing (in the early 60s). . .but as I read (about halfway through right now) it occurs to me that Ignatius certainly seems to have some contemporaries here in the early 21st century. . .his lambasting diatribes and ridiculous rhetoric are reminiscent of a certain O'Reilly over on FOXNews, as well as Stephen Colbert's satirical persona.
On Ownership
I heard a report on NPR today about a new bill President Bush signed into law that would create a cabinet-level "pirate czar" - not the kind that would wear an eye-patch and say "Arrrrrrrgh!" with a Russian accent, but the kind that would crack down on the piracy of intellectual property, like the "drug czar" supposedly cracks down on the illegal drug trade.
Now, I know being a "starving artist" is not just a metaphor, but a reality for a number of folks who are trying to make a life and a living following their true calling. So I by no means think artists should not be paid fairly and appropriately for their work.
But the thought occurred to me, as I was listening to this report, that after thousands of years of music-making and storytelling, there is nothing new under the sun. Nothing that anyone writes today is truly original - all the metaphors, images, chord progressions, etc, that we could possibly come up with are all borrowed from someone (or several someones) who came before us. So is it really fair to say anything is one person's intellectual property? Is it fair to take something that once belonged to the common good, slap your name on your own arrangement of said material, and start charging the public to access it and/or deny others the ability to borrow from you (as you yourself have borrowed)?
I then thought of how eerily similar this is to another situation in our nation's history - when western Europeans came to this country and imposed their understanding of private property and the accompanying rights it entailed upon the indigenous people who considered land an un-ownable public good. Essentially, this is the same understanding of private property now being imposed upon cultural, instead of natural, resources.
Maybe I wouldn't be grousing about this as much if I thought the law was meant to protect the artists. But it seems like it's more geared to protect the financial interests of the corporate managers of the artists. Certainly, there's got to be a happy medium - something that protects the artists from the abuses of both managers and patrons, but doesn't put the creative commons under lock-down and reward inalienable rights to whoever slaps their name on an old idea first.
Now, I know being a "starving artist" is not just a metaphor, but a reality for a number of folks who are trying to make a life and a living following their true calling. So I by no means think artists should not be paid fairly and appropriately for their work.
But the thought occurred to me, as I was listening to this report, that after thousands of years of music-making and storytelling, there is nothing new under the sun. Nothing that anyone writes today is truly original - all the metaphors, images, chord progressions, etc, that we could possibly come up with are all borrowed from someone (or several someones) who came before us. So is it really fair to say anything is one person's intellectual property? Is it fair to take something that once belonged to the common good, slap your name on your own arrangement of said material, and start charging the public to access it and/or deny others the ability to borrow from you (as you yourself have borrowed)?
I then thought of how eerily similar this is to another situation in our nation's history - when western Europeans came to this country and imposed their understanding of private property and the accompanying rights it entailed upon the indigenous people who considered land an un-ownable public good. Essentially, this is the same understanding of private property now being imposed upon cultural, instead of natural, resources.
Maybe I wouldn't be grousing about this as much if I thought the law was meant to protect the artists. But it seems like it's more geared to protect the financial interests of the corporate managers of the artists. Certainly, there's got to be a happy medium - something that protects the artists from the abuses of both managers and patrons, but doesn't put the creative commons under lock-down and reward inalienable rights to whoever slaps their name on an old idea first.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Burn After Reading
An old college friend on Facebook thought this latest from the Coen Bros was fun but "couldn't decide what it was supposed to be."
I have to disagree. I think the fact that it's kinda hard to tell what the point of the movie is, is exactly the movie's point. In that sense, it's a cinematic exegesis of Quoheleth (aka Ecclesiastes).
To a world full of folks looking for their 15 minutes of fame and/or their big jackpot moment, the movie says "All is vanity." To a world fixated on a certain standard of superficial beauty, the movie says "this too is a chasing after wind." To a world overrun with both excessively revealing navel gazers and obsessively voyeuristic surveilance, the movie says "there is nothing new under the sun" - for as much hoopla as we make of them, really, our lives are not that fascinating, and all that we consume ourselves worrying about is ultimately in vain.
Once again, the brothers Coen masterfully portray how the effects of sin continue to ripple out through our lives and the lives of others, how one bad choice can suddenly trap you into a series of even more bad choices. Truly, Joel and Ethan are theologians trapped in filmmakers bodies! :)
So, I liked it. Thumbs up.
I have to disagree. I think the fact that it's kinda hard to tell what the point of the movie is, is exactly the movie's point. In that sense, it's a cinematic exegesis of Quoheleth (aka Ecclesiastes).
To a world full of folks looking for their 15 minutes of fame and/or their big jackpot moment, the movie says "All is vanity." To a world fixated on a certain standard of superficial beauty, the movie says "this too is a chasing after wind." To a world overrun with both excessively revealing navel gazers and obsessively voyeuristic surveilance, the movie says "there is nothing new under the sun" - for as much hoopla as we make of them, really, our lives are not that fascinating, and all that we consume ourselves worrying about is ultimately in vain.
Once again, the brothers Coen masterfully portray how the effects of sin continue to ripple out through our lives and the lives of others, how one bad choice can suddenly trap you into a series of even more bad choices. Truly, Joel and Ethan are theologians trapped in filmmakers bodies! :)
So, I liked it. Thumbs up.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Nana's House of Sauce
Tomorrow is our "stockholder" dinner at church - a thank you to all the folks who helped to underwrite the mission trip and summer camp experiences. A few people have been hinting around about trying my family red sauce, so I decided to make it for the dinner. As I type, batch #3 of 4 is simmering on my stove, and probably won't be done until after midnight. #4 is going to have to wait until tomorrow to get going - good thing this is for dinner!
I have not had a marathon sauce-making day like this since preparing for my ordination party, when Nana and I pulled both a marathon sauce day and a marathon meatball day. It was a lot of work, but we had so much fun cooking together and hanging out, I wouldn't trade that time for anything. I could get to the phone faster than she could, so whenever it rang, I would run to grab it and answer "Nana's House of Sauce," which would make both her and the person on the other end of the line chuckle.
In the middle of the first day, she was asking a lot of questions about my new call, what the congregation was like, and the area I'd be living in, and how much vacation time I got, and then all of sudden she blurted out, "Do you think they'll let you come home to bury me?" I was kind of taken aback, and after a little pause to let the request sink in, I asked, "Nana, is that what you want?" "Yes, I think so. Yes." "Then yes, I will come home to bury you."
Hard to believe she's been gone for a year and a half already. Marathon sauce days are certainly a lot less fun when you're working alone. . .
I have not had a marathon sauce-making day like this since preparing for my ordination party, when Nana and I pulled both a marathon sauce day and a marathon meatball day. It was a lot of work, but we had so much fun cooking together and hanging out, I wouldn't trade that time for anything. I could get to the phone faster than she could, so whenever it rang, I would run to grab it and answer "Nana's House of Sauce," which would make both her and the person on the other end of the line chuckle.
In the middle of the first day, she was asking a lot of questions about my new call, what the congregation was like, and the area I'd be living in, and how much vacation time I got, and then all of sudden she blurted out, "Do you think they'll let you come home to bury me?" I was kind of taken aback, and after a little pause to let the request sink in, I asked, "Nana, is that what you want?" "Yes, I think so. Yes." "Then yes, I will come home to bury you."
Hard to believe she's been gone for a year and a half already. Marathon sauce days are certainly a lot less fun when you're working alone. . .
Monday, October 6, 2008
Cute Kid Stories (Worship Division)
Molly (9 months) learned to crawl, and loves to go exploring and show off this new skill. Her family no sooner got to worship this morning than she was crawling under the pews to visit and play with the kids a couple rows behind them. Her mother warned me I might have to "return" her at some point during the service, in case she wandered her way up front to help me with the sermon!
Her dad held on to her, so it didn't happen. . .this time. :)
Alex (13 months) has figured out he can make all sorts of cool noises and echoes in our sanctuary and has been pretty vocal lately as a result. A couple weeks ago, right as I was getting into the home stretch of the proclamation in my sermon, he called out "Yeah!" and his timing couldn't have been more perfect - I actually broke with my script and looked up at him and said "That's exactly right, Alex, yeah! You got it! Yeah!"
Today, during the hymn of praise I could hear him making some noise, and when I looked over to him, he was waving furiously at me, and he smiled big and waved even faster when he saw that he grabbed my attention. It was too adorable, and was giving both his parents and I an acute case of the church giggles. I wanted to wave as enthusiastically back to him, but I knew the congregation couldn't see what was going on and would wonder what in the world I was doing. So I just did a little wave and kept singing through the chuckling, while they pulled out a sippy cup to occupy his hands.
They're not only cute, they're profound little theologians - unafraid to wander into new territory and make friends with new people, unafraid to use their voice and respond enthusiastically to the gospel - no wonder Jesus said we should all receive the kingdom as a little child. . .
Her dad held on to her, so it didn't happen. . .this time. :)
Alex (13 months) has figured out he can make all sorts of cool noises and echoes in our sanctuary and has been pretty vocal lately as a result. A couple weeks ago, right as I was getting into the home stretch of the proclamation in my sermon, he called out "Yeah!" and his timing couldn't have been more perfect - I actually broke with my script and looked up at him and said "That's exactly right, Alex, yeah! You got it! Yeah!"
Today, during the hymn of praise I could hear him making some noise, and when I looked over to him, he was waving furiously at me, and he smiled big and waved even faster when he saw that he grabbed my attention. It was too adorable, and was giving both his parents and I an acute case of the church giggles. I wanted to wave as enthusiastically back to him, but I knew the congregation couldn't see what was going on and would wonder what in the world I was doing. So I just did a little wave and kept singing through the chuckling, while they pulled out a sippy cup to occupy his hands.
They're not only cute, they're profound little theologians - unafraid to wander into new territory and make friends with new people, unafraid to use their voice and respond enthusiastically to the gospel - no wonder Jesus said we should all receive the kingdom as a little child. . .
Saturday, October 4, 2008
SNL Opener 9/27/08
You Tube is blocking everyone who tried to post the sketch, and I can't get nbc's embedding code to work here, so you'll just have to go on over to their site to watch the spoof of Palin's interview with Katie Couric, but Tina Fey is once again brilliant (not to mention, as adorable as ever. Pew! Pew! Pew!).
Can't wait to see what she does with the debates tonight. . .
Can't wait to see what she does with the debates tonight. . .
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