One of the e-zines to which I subscribe had a Q&A section and in the section was the story of the problem a (non-Roman Catholic) chaplaincy director at a large hospital regarding communion wafers.
Historically, they kept a supply of wafers that had been consecrated by an RC priest for use for RC hospital patients, but they may have been distributed by non-RC chaplains (Ok, fine, my recollection from medical school is in certain circumstances, non-RC's can perform certain RC duties, like the Sacrament of the Sick.) However, in light of all the "wafer-mania" these days, the cardinal there decreed that only RC's could give RC-consecrated wafers to RC patients, and that the wafers had to be stored separately, so there would be no confusion in accidentally giving them to non-RC patients.
I got to thinking about my "deer meat chili."
When I lived in Columbia, I used to have to make the chili for the department potluck. I always made two pots; one with deer burger and one with hamburger. Columbia, being a little more cosmopolitan and more "bambiophilic" than Kirksville, had a populace a little less tolerant about deer chili, despite the fact deer roamed the neighborhoods in packs, flashing gang symbols and running into cars and through patio doors.
One year, the more I drank, the more I got p.o.'ed about the comments from the people who did not eat the deer chili. They could not just eat the hamburger chili, they had to make rude and snide comments about my even having BROUGHT the deer chili.
The next year, I brought my two pots of chili, and announced, "These are both hamburger chili."
I watched people eat the chili, enjoy it without making snide comments, and I just sat and smiled.
They were both made of deer burger.
...And that is what I'd do with those damn wafers....
Hat tip to Terry for this post. Here are my answers to the three questions and the two spares:
1. How do you feel about the term "born again"?
Kirkepiscatoid: Really really queasy, because it describes a specific type of "conversion experience" that is evangelical in nature, which is kind of foreign to liturgical, sacramental Christianity. It is a "code word" for "Are you spiritually one of us?"
2. Has anyone ever tried to save you?
Kirkepiscatoid: Oh yes. Many times, pretty much with no luck. But I do have to tell the story how there used to be tent revivals in the park when I was a kid, and at age eleven, my friends and I decided to "watch the show" (hey, small towns are boring...) and on a dare went up and got "saved." I have to admit I liked the attention, though.
3. Is there a difference between spirituality and religion?
Kirkepiscatoid: Oh, yeah. They can go together or be separate. To me, religion is the nuts and bolts of how you practice your spirituality publicly, but spirituality is much bigger than that. If I drew a Venn diagram, there would be a big circle labled spirituality, and a smaller circle labeled religion. The religion circle would be 3/4 included by the spirituality cirlce with a little bit (1/4) sticking outside the spirituality circle. That would be my version of the two for me.
Elsewhere, two additional questions are suggested:
4. Which spiritual person do you most admire?
Kirkepiscatoid: Hands down, Simon Peter. He's so human. He's so like me in a lot of ways. In for a dollar, in for a dime, but often in the middle of an "Oh, shit" moment. But despite his terribly glaring faults, he's so real and so overall solid.
5. What would you say to Christians if they would listen?
Kirkepiscatoid: Sit still and feel. Stop listening to other people so much.
Just another of the real church signs posted to the churchsigngenerator.com website...
Boy, ain't it the truth, when it comes to our real family and our church family at times?
People ask me how come I am "so darn funny" (That's funny as in comical, not funny as in weird, although I am that, too!) I have been told I am funny enough to do standup comedy; my reply is, "No, I'm funny enough to starve doing standup comedy."
I think it is because I once heard that "Comedy is tragedy plus time." I've had tragedy, I'm uber-sensitive to it, I feel it in a way most people don't allow it to be taken on. With the laws of physics demanding equal but opposite reactions...well, my sense of comedy only mirrors it!
Psalm 124
1If it had not been the Lord who was on our side—let Israel now say—
2if it had not been the Lord who was on our side, when our enemies attacked us,
3then they would have swallowed us up alive, when their anger was kindled against us;
4then the flood would have swept us away, the torrent would have gone over us;
5then over us would have gone the raging waters.
6Blessed be the Lord, who has not given us as prey to their teeth.
7We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowlers; the snare is broken, and we have escaped.
8Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
I have been working backwards through the Psalms as a spiritual exercise, starting with 150 and doing one every day till I get back to Psalm 1.It is a story of the deliverance of the Jews, but it is a story of my deliverance, also. Maybe it is a story of your deliverance! I like it in its entirety, but I especially like v.7: “We have escaped like a bird from the snare of the fowler; the snare is broken, and we have escaped.”
Ok, I want you to imagine this bird, with a string still hanging from his leg and the noose around his ankle, with a broken end dangling.
I remember this moment in my life. The exact moment. I was 23 years old. Without going into a great deal of detail, I grew up in a sea of alcohol-fueled physical abuse. I was taught to think absolutely bizarre ways of "making children mind" was ok. There was a moment, when I was 23, that I no longer agreed to be an abused child, psychologically. My parents and I were supposed to go out for their anniversary. Dad was drunk. Very drunk. And behind the wheel. I refused to get in the car. At first, I tried cajoling and wheedling to talk him out. It just made him madder. Finally, I said, "No, I'm not going, then."
He then proceeded to launch into a tirade of what he was going to do to me if I didn't get in the car. I still remember my mom crying, begging me to get in the car, berating me for "causing trouble with your dad." I kept walking. He got out of the car and told me if I didn't get in, he would kill me--that he could chase me down and break my neck. I stopped and said, "Yes you can. But I still will not have gotten in the car." I kept walking, shaking, fearing he’d chase after me, but did it anyway. He did not follow. It was the moment I escaped the snare, the string still on my ankle. He never physically threatened me again from that moment on. My mom endured his abuse about five more years, but eventually they divorced. He remarried, I'm sure he still abuses his second wife, but he is a burned out shell of the threat he used to be, an old man who is much more mellow than in those days and far less explosive.
Then you know, years go by and, one day, I looked down, and the string was gone. It rotted off, or the noose loosened enough that I had stepped out of it and didn't even know it. The only thing left was it left a mark around my ankle. A scar.
Can you think back and remember “the moments of your deliverance?” The exact moments? Maybe they are not as dramatic as mine; maybe they are more dramatic, but I bet you can. In that moment, you can still feel the string on your ankle although it long rotted off.
I think about that in the Eucharistic Prayer when we say, “We celebrate the memorial of our redemption” b/c I can still remember those moments. I think about that when we say about Christ in the EP, “to live and die as one of us.” Wow, that means to feel our pain, our tragedy, and also our joy, our comedy.
The other problem with having had that snare on our legs, figuratively speaking, is that sometimes we feel the pain of that snare even when it no longer is real--sort of like how amputees feel "phantom limb pain."
Over the weekend, I had to go through a situation at our church where I did not speak up about something I should have spoken up about. I found myself incredibly angry at myself for not being able to articulate my dissent sooner. I was angry that this person who I considered an integral friend in my life was putting me in a situation where I had to fight that old feeling of "not speaking up to not make trouble." Even though I was in no danger of physical abuse anymore, I realized the old thread of physical abuse checkered my reality and made me cowardly to tell the truth.
But you know, that psalm is not just about our past. It’s about “deliverances yet to come.” Nothing earth-shattering perhaps, just the "cares of the world". They weigh us down. There are deliverances from some of these yet to come. They will feel wonderful. Things just don’t always feel great right this moment.
The bulk of this situation in my life has defused as of this morning, but I know there are some hard realities of it. I will have to deal with the tension it caused. I will have to reconcile some issues with this friend. I am not looking forward to it. But it will be ok. I'm sure of that. Maybe not ok like "everyone lives happily ever after" but it will level out somehow. I just don't like the work of doing it.
Oh, I also wanted to put a link up if any of you all were interesting in donating to help flood relief in the Episcopal Diocese of Iowa. If you use this link, in the comments section you might mention it is in honor of Team Pohick!
Great story to follow...
Every morning at breakfast, Team Pohick did a morning devotional based on Forward Day by Day. Wednesday's lesson was from Judges, Ch. 13, when Manoah and his wife got a lesson in recognizing angels. The commentary in FDBD talked about being smart enough to recognize angels when you encounter them. Here was their devotional lesson for the day (courtesy of Forward Day by Day):
Judges 13:15-24. Manoah did not know that [the man] was the angel of the LORD.
Do you believe in angels? I'm not talking about decorative figurines or the smiling cherubs of greeting cards. Angels are divine spokespersons. Do you believe in the kinds of angels who appear in the Bible?
There are two kinds of angels in the Bible. The first is impossible to mistake for anything else--a knock-you-down, in-your-face confrontation with the supernatural. Such angels usually say, before they get to their message, "Don't be afraid!" They say that because people are terrified of them.
The second kind of angel, like the one in today's reading from Judges, is usually mistaken for something else. Not only do they not frighten us, but we may not even give them a thought, so ordinary do they seem. Be careful, for you never know through whom the Lord will speak to you. Maybe through your child. Or your spouse. Or your boss. The postman, the cab driver, the person next to you in the checkout line, the politician you dislike, the homeless person on the street. Or that irritating, irascible jerk in the next office. Even your worst enemy. "Some have entertained angels unawares" (Hebrews 13:2).
Frank was having a bad day on Thursday. He discovered that he was going to have to remove all of the insulation under his house because of the risk of mold, and replace it. We went out and bought Tyvek suits and balaclavas, expecting to have to crawl around in the muck and goo of Frank's crawl space. Keep in mind the ages of Team Pohick range from 48 to 68. In other words, the spirit is willing but the knees, hips, and shoulders are weak! But just as we had resigned ourselves to the task, along came a group of age 20something Americorps volunteers, shown in the picture above.
Well, after that devotional lesson, we knew what angels look like, by golly! They were more than willing to do the work but didn't have the Tyvek suits....well, we supplied them, and it was all good!
If you have a chance, donate to Americorps. These are neat young folks. This group came from Cedar Rapids and although there is plenty of flood damage there for them to stay busy, some were dispatched to Iowa City. Some of them have previously learned about life the hard way, some are single parents, some are just not sure what to do next in life. But they are learning great lessons on volunteerism. We hope we gave them some degree of inspiration on the concept that volunteerism is a lifelong activity. Meanwhile, keep these angels unawares in your prayers.
Meet Team Pohick...well, Team Pohick plus one Missourian and one Iowegian. This is the group I joined up with to do flood relief, from Pohick Episcopal Church, Lorton, VA. The nucleus of Team Pohick has been to Katrina three times, so these people KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING when it comes to flood relief. This team went out on a mission trip to Iowa City the week of Aug, 11, 2008 to help in the flooded Riverside district of Iowa City, IA. Our tasks included painting, yard work, tree/bush removal, disinfecting gutted houses, and removing wet gross drywall and bathroom fixtures, just to name a few assorted tasks.
I figured out very quickly, as the "newbie" to just do what they told me to do!
The guys on Team Pohick are Tom, Mo, and Grant; the women are leader Kathy and Edde (short for Edwardene...what a great name...I'm betting her dad was named Edward????) The add-ons were me and Deacon Martha of the diocese of Iowa.
The photo was taken on "Frank's front porch." Frank was our favorite homeowner in the neighborhood and his story was very poignant. His wife recently became wheelchair bound. He bought this house and rehabbed it to make it handicap accessible, but it flooded before she could move in. Frank and his contractor buddy Roger were rehabbing it all over again from scratch. We did a lot of work at Frank's house, and it's no concidence our "brush with angels unawares" happened at Frank's house (more on that in an upcoming post).
Team Pohick is a "work hard, play hard" team in every sense of the word, and I was honored to be a part of the team, even if only for a few days!
