Nick is trying to sleep and I am not feeling very sleepy so I decided I would try to write something.
Some times it just knocks me over that this house is not going to be mine in a few months. Soon it will belong to the bank and I will be left with nothing to show for it except a bad credit rating. I look out of my window at the quiet neighborhood and it really makes me sad.
I supply preached today. I don't know if I will ever get used to the Episcopal "hand jive." So much of it seems like an attempt to control God. If the flagon is on the corpral, then it is consecrated, if not, then it is just wine. Better not get it too close!! Sometimes it seems like we just get so caught up in the little details and we forget the big issues that face us. Why can't we just get it into our heard that God loves us, just as we are? Why do we feel the need to have to tell others that God doesn't love them? It is so unChristian if you ask me.
I always feel like I am bordering on the edge of insanity. I just about went postal on the job last week and decided that it was better for me not to be working it. Getting up at 4:30 am for an $8 per hour job is not worth it. And then to have the exec tell us that we had to stand on the concrete floor for eight hours while visually inspecting plastic lenses (thousands of them, literally!) without having a pad to stand on was too much. When I almost barged into his office to tell him that he could bring his ass out of his office and stand for eight hours for $8 per hour, I knew that I was going over the edge. Lets fave it, visual inspection of lenses does not give you much to think about so, in my case, my mind went nutzo.
Sorry it seems like all I do is complain. Lately there doesn't seem like a lot to be happy about.
When the traditions and customs of the liturgy (which I love) that help us express our love for God and help us understand our God become rules by which we control God, then our worship is in vain and our efforts misguided at best.
My own thought is that we should not tell others that God does not love them (for one, because he does love them - as they are). We should not even "tell" others that God loves them. We should "live" to others that God loves them - as they are.
Yesterday, we sang "One There Is Above All Others". I weep every time I sing that. To me it captures the essence of the Good News and is the basis of my hope and my own love.
some of the best writing occurs on sleepless night.
I hear many many people losing their houses here in Arizona, so I know your hurt.
don't forget that God loves you too.
I love you - and I love reading your thoughts, even when they are snarky and sad. But honestly - you really need to lose the fireworks display, brother. That is cute the first time, but really annoying after about 5 minutes...
I remember the first time I heard about "the hour of the wolf" it was on Babylon 5. But I have been having a few of those sessions myself, lately.
We are skating on the edge of losing house, car, you name it. It's so sad that with all our training, and all our generalized knowledge, that you and I can't find something more worthy. I have done the whole $8/hr thing, and it is so damn destructive to one's soul. When you're goin' thru it, Janis Joplin's line about "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose" just doesn't cut it, does it?
I don't know anything about Episcopal liturgy - but even as a Lutheran seminarian I just questioned the need for this "holy plate" and that "holy pitcher" and this "holy cloth with which to wipe the lip of this holy cup." I keep remembering the song by Clay Crosse:
"..talkin' 'bout a man
Dyin' on a cross
Savin' the world
Risin' from the dead
Doin' what he said
He would do...
Lovin' ev'ryone he saw
When he said and done it all
Comes down to a man
Dyin' on a cross
Savin' the world..."
Oh, if it could only be that simple...
And yes, I understand your ire about the job. I once had a temp job soaking and removing misapplied labels from glass ketchup bottles. Thousands of them. Without gloves. For hours on end. And when I actually asked for gloves for the third time, to protect my about to start bleeding hands, they said, "Hell, you only got 2 more hours to go, boy - just get on with it!"
And they were actually surprised when I walked out, too.
Friends are people who let friends complain, and listen, and give 'em "there, there"s until it gets different.
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