Tuesday, October 4, 2011


Linking one’s blog to one’s parish website and bulletin is not without a certain degree of peril. No so much for content but for lack of new writing! A dear parishioner accosted me on Sunday morning complaining that I had not written anything new recently. (Recently being six days!) And it was no use me pointing out that I had been sermon-writing. No sir, she wanted more blogging.

In my humble defense I might comment that these last few days, this past weekend, has been positively “busy.” And how I dislike that word. Saturday as the day that we, as a parish, met and talked without boundaries about mission; Sunday brought the baptism of twin brothers during the Family Eucharist – and, doffing the cap to St Francis, whose day it is today, the Blessing of Animals. That was fun! The old favorites were there, with some new dogs. Plus I had the honor to bless a “snapping roach,” which is a first for me in nearly twenty-five years of priesthood. I apologise for my inexperience.

Yesterday, Monday, was my “day off.” What an awful phrase that is! Off from what? Work? I would hardly describe my sacerdotal calling as work, although in the Anglican, especially Church of England vows to which I am perpetually bound, my life is also inextricably linked to the word and work of the Gospel.

On that day I have an established, and some might say boring routine. I actually get to sleep in - until about 7.30. Kate’s school bus has left, and I can slowly drink coffee and then plan the day. This involves a trip to the dump (non-US readers: The “tip.”) followed by a major grocery shopping agenda. And then the post office.

Why the post office? Because in this neck of the woods they don’t deliver the mail. (That’s for reasons that I will not get into here.) So we have to go and get it ourselves. Anyway, that’s what I did last Monday. No real mail. No bills; seven pieces of junk; the diocesan newspaper (which probably belongs in the previous category); a Virginia peanut catalog (now we’re talking!) and a catalogue from the fashion house Anthropologie. And it is this about which I now wish to comment.

Comment, not about their products. The good Lord knows that I have no knowledge or interest in such things. No, rather about their presentation. For their catalog, the latest among many is full of young women who are posed in quite unnatural ways. On beaches, in fields, on fishing piers. And all of them seem to be either drugged or else suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. Take your pick. I know the latter. An intense, seemingly focused stare at a non-existent object. (In the military we used to call it the “thousand yard stare.”) Either that, or they are extras, looking for work, from the remake of the Living Dead.

Don’t take my word for it. Look at the catalogue or website. But be careful. They’re either crazy – or they're coming after you!

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