Communion on the Net

We had a good discussion last week in Forum.  We talked about communion or, as some call it, the eucharist.

I can hear you yawning.

OK, here's the thing.  Communion is a big deal in all Christian denominations.  It comes from Jesus having his last meal in the Upper Room and telling his disciples to drink..."this is my blood."  And eat..."this is my body."

Some churches are very strict, like the Roman Catholics who believe that the bread and wine, after they are blessed, are actually the body and blood of Christ.  This is the most important of the seven Catholic sacraments and a very big deal.  Very sacred and done with great care and ritual.  I have respect for this tradition.

So what did we discuss in Forum?  A Methodist church in North Carolina is starting a "virtual campus" and wants to serve communion "virtually."  As in, "You get your own crackers and Grape Nehi and let's have communion over the Internet."

The College of Bishops has said "no way" and has put a moratorium on sacraments on line.

The minister at this local church has said that, traditionally, the only way his parishioners can receive communion is to be in the physical church between 9 and 11 am on a Sunday morning...."and this is no longer a good business model."

The bishops have said online communion is "irregular, experimental and abnormal."

What do I think?

Communion is extremely meaningful to me.  I want to take it with other people, all in various stages of relationship with themselves, each other and God.  My ministers always invite every person who desires to have a relationship with Christ to come to the table.   You don't have to be a member of our church - or any church.  I like that.

But, some day, I may no longer be able to get to church on a regular basis.  So I think I'd like the option of a "virtual campus."

But, whatever I think, this train is coming down the track so we older folks - instead of clicking our tongues at those young people who are experiencing God in all sorts of virtual venues - better get out of the way.


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How to be Financially Successful in Two (Not So Easy) Steps

On December 21st we took a taxi from Midway Airport to downtown Chicago.  The driver was a young man from Ethiopia.  Here's his story in a nutshell.  He's married with four little kids.  His wife's an RN.  He's going to school and driving the taxi.  When the children were tiny he and his wife never left them at day care.  The parents worked different shifts so one of them was always home.   He told us education is a priority in their home.  Both for the kids and themselves.  They are naturalized citizens.

On a seemingly different note,  a couple of days ago we were listening to economist Clark Howard on the radio as we drove back to Florida from Atlanta.  He said that, on his recent book tour,  he asked the same question all across the country.

Will your children be as well off financially as you are?

Overwhelmingly, the answer was "No."  And the economy seems to bear that out.  The majority of us are getting poorer while a few are getting much richer.

But Clark says, and it's been proven by several studies, including a big PEW study, that there are two huge factors that turn that around.  They are:

1.  Getting an education.

2.  Getting - and staying - married.

The folks in this country who are in the worst shape, by far, are single women with children.

So there you have it.

I think our young Ethiopian cabby friend in Chicago has a good shot at the American dream.  His life is difficult but his priorities are straight.


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Another Lego Star Wars Christmas

Photo from the box

Question:  How many of my four grandchildren (2 boys, 2 girls) in Atlanta love Legos?

Answer:  All of them.

It was another LEGO Christmas.  And more specifically, a Star Wars Lego Christmas.  And, more specifically for my ten year old,  a Princess Leia, Episode VI Return of the Jedi, Jabba's Sail Barge complete with 2 cannons, flick missiles, prison, kitchen, opening windows, Jabba's throne and 4 mini figures Christmas.

Lunch Time Christmas Day

Of course it came in a box consisting of approximately a million pieces.  (I'm thinking a 10 year old kid can never assemble this thing. )

But he did.  And well within 24 hours.  This leaves only about a dozen more Christmas Lego sets in this household to complete.  Grandma contributed four.

A few minutes ago I read a rave review of Jabba's Sail Barge on Lego's web site.  It's titled "Pretty Sweet."  It was written by a 25 year old!

Morning of the 26th.  Done!

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Parenting Skills

I just spent several days at my daughter's house.  She has four kids, like I did.  I marvel at her patience.  She never loses her sense of humor no matter how many times she has to tell them to pick up their toys.

I hope she got this from me.  But I sort of doubt it.

I tried to be patient when my kids were little guys but projects and big messes abounded in our home and getting them to clean up was always challenging.

Once in a while I would fantasize about me being a sheriff, complete with gun and holster.  In this fantasy, after about a dozen times of me saying "clean your room," I would take the six shooter from my holster and say "You, pick up those clothes."  "You brush your teeth."  "And you, you don't even live here, go home."  And in the fantasy they would do it because I was the sheriff and I was armed.

But, of course I never acted out this scenario.

Now, this morning, I read about a 26 year old former tattoo artist who, while in the car on Christmas day with her boyfriend and kids,  decided to stop the fighting in the backseat by pulling off the road, pulling out her .380 caliber handgun from her glove box and firing six rounds into the air.

She was arrested and her six kids are now in protective custody.

A number of issues could be debated in this story.  But here's the take away for me:  Most women fantasize from time to time - about a number of things.  The vast majority of these fantasies should never be acted upon.   And, of course, this woman needs an anger management class ASAP.


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Two Sweet Christmas Stories

Dave and I are on the road again, making our annual Christmas run.  Here are two sweet stories from along the trail.

Five nights ago we stayed in a Comfort Inn in Macon, Georgia.  As you know, I love the big breakfasts these hotels serve.  That morning I went down early to look over the selection.  It was to die for.  Eggs, bacon, danish, waffles, fruit, yogurt, bagels with cream cheese - and the ultimate treat - sausage gravy.

There was only one other traveler in the dining room so I decided to get coffee, read the paper and wait for Dave.  Suddenly the elevator doors opened and teen aged girls poured out.  The doors closed and momentarily two more loads of girls poured out.  All in their jams, Santa hats and socks.

I thought oh, oh!  And I was right.  They demolished the breakfast.  Dave came down and we both laughed at how, within 10 minutes, all of the food disappeared before our eyes.  And I mean all!  Even the boxed cereal.

As it turns out, it was a girls basketball team.  They were happy for the away game but sad to be traveling four days before Christmas.  They made up for it by eating hardily.

But, by some Christmas miracle, it took only about 15 minutes for the staff to replenish breakfast for the the rest of us.  So a happy ending for all

***

Three nights ago we were in Chicago.  Our hotel, the Essex Inn, was on South Michigan Avenue.  We decided to walk about ten blocks to Macy's.  It was drizzling rain and the temperature was dropping - but we enjoyed the walk.  Macy's was bustling.  When we stepped outside for the walk back it was much colder and the rain had turned to sleet. 

We were making our way up State Street, arm and arm and holding an umbrella when we slipped.   We went down kind of in slow motion until both of us were sprawled on the sidewalk.  We weren't hurt but we were stunned.  

But, no less than eight people surrounded us, gently, easily, pulling us back to our feet.  They were smiling and gracious.  Some stayed to chat a few minutes, most likely to make sure we were fine.  

And we were.  More than fine even.  So a happy ending for all.

***

Now it's Christmas eve.  Dave's in Chicago with grown grandchildren.  I'm in Atlanta awaiting Santa.  And that's as it should be.

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My Very Special Day

Today is my 75th birthday.  So far, it's been fantastic!  I've spent the past year kind of working up to it.  I was born on December 18, 1938.  I remember saving bacon grease in a jar on the stove during World War II.  I remember being in elementary school and listening to General MacArthur's "Old Soldiers Never Die" speech.

I was in Atlanta and South Florida in the 70s doing civil rights work that was so scary we could have been killed but back then we thought we were invincible.

I have lived a long, interesting and, dare I say looking back, impressive life.  I hope the planet has changed a wee bit for the good because I've been around.

I have four children of whom I'm enormously proud, ten grandchildren and one great grandchild.  I love my children's spouses.

I love and respect my brother like crazy.  Likewise his wife and daughter.  And now I share Dave's beautiful family.  All together our kids, spouses and grandkids number 27.

I have friends whom I love like crazy.  The closest ones keep me centered and sane.

I have important work.  I have a deep faith.

And, despite the fact that you are sick of hearing it, I am wildly in love with Dave.  I can honestly say that, after being here for 75  years, I am the happiest I've ever been.  I'm the most fulfilled I ever been.

And I have more to share.

My son shares my birthday.  Tonight, along with other family members, we'll have the ultimate celebration.  I say that even though I just came from a celebration.  Here is a photo taken at our last family get together in October.  That's Scott who is 51 today, and me (did I say I'm 75!)  In Scott's arm is his grandson and my great grandson, Max, who is zero years old.  (Dave's in the background.)

Life goes on.  I no longer feel invincible.  But I do know that there's much more to be done, much more life to be lived and loved.


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Francis and Name Calling

Last month Rush Limbaugh called Pope Francis a Marxist.  I was sad to see in this morning's paper that the Pope had bothered to respond.

Why do we insist on calling people what we think is the worst trait we perceive they have?  We even do it to our kids.  I know a man who calls his overweight daughter "Tubs."

Pope Francis was just voted Time Magazine's "Person of the Year."  While I'm not a Catholic, here are some of the names I like to call him:

Francis the Humble.  He chose his name to identify himself with one of the greatest but most humble saints of the church.

Keeper of the Keys to the Kingdom of Heaven.  Again, I'm not a Catholic but I know this became his title when he inherited the throne of St. Peter.

The People's Pope.  Francis is wildly popular among Catholics around the world and has the approval of 58% of non Catholic Americans.

Francis the Peacemaker.

Francis the Compassionate.   While he is holding the line on women's rights and gay rights, he's expressing compassion for all of us.   His most famous recent quote:  "Who am I to judge?"

While Pope Francis is most definitely not a Marxist, he was, as a young man, a nightclub bouncer.  This may help him as time moves on.


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The Capen House

Capen on Interlachen

Back in June I wrote about preserving historic Winter Park, Florida homes.

The Capen House, named for one of the first movers and shakers in Winter Park was sold a while back and the new owners promptly announched that it would be torn down.

The Capen, while beautiful and historic, is not a particularly large house for the area.  It sat on amazingly eclectic, Interlachen Avenue where, in a span of about six blocks we can find a golf course, old mansions on huge lots, condos, normal size houses, and three large churches.  Interlachen Avenue borders Lake Osceola.  The church I attend sits right in the middle of Interlachen on the opposite side of the street.

Naturally, when the Winter Park folks got wind of the Capen tear down they got busy.  They ended up deciding to move it to the lawn of the majestic Polasek Museum.

But how will we get it there?  Picture in your mind a bunch of twelve year old boys sitting around trying to come up with ideas.

Should we drive it down the street and around the block?  Or float it across the lake?

One half of the Capen on Lake Osceola

This is kinda how these well heeled, creative Winter Park folks think.  So naturally they decided to cut the house in half and float it, one half at a time,  across the lake on barges.  To my knowledge, there was never any doubt in the minds of those in charge that this plan would work.

And it did.  The Capen is now safe and sound in its new surroundings.



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Love and Loss

A few years back, when Dave and I were trying to figure out our future, another couple was working on similar issues.  Well, not similar - but issues.  They're a couple of decades younger than us but, like us, had complicated lives and serious obligations.

Jan is one of the most creative persons I know: a writer, artist, minister, teacher and so much more.  Gary, a singer/song writer/actor.  Like us, it took several years to make the big leap into marriage.

Dave's Thanksgiving Dinner
 with his family. 

One of the most meaningful experiences leading into our marriage was, in 2007, a six week class we took with Jan and Gary leading.  It was beyond creative.  We experienced art in all its forms.

An on going experience in the class was remembering a favorite holiday.  One week we expressed it verbally.  The next week we wrote about it.  The next we created it on paper.  All the while Gary was walking among us playing his guitar and singing.

Dave's finished product was amazing.  A depiction of a long ago favorite Thanksgiving dinner with his wife and children.

Last week Gary died unexpectedly.  Naturally, Jan is suffering mightily.  In thinking about our situations and how love and loss are inseparable, the only thing I wish I'd done differently is I wish I'd cut to the chase and proposed to Dave that first time I saw him in the airport in Chicago in 2006.




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Temperture's Risin'

Much of the nation is suffering from the Big Chill.  Dave's hometown, Minneapolis, is minus four degrees.  Planes can't land in many parts of the country.  People can't get to work.  Lots of car crashes on the highways.  Several thousand folks in Denver were without heat last night due to an ice storm.

The NFL is suffering, with players slipping and falling on the field even before other players smash into them.

I know that folks in this country and other parts of the world are freezing their socks off so I thought I'd share our weather problems with you to let you know we're in solidarity.  We're suffering too.

In a word, it's HOT down here.  How hot is it?

• I left the house in short sleeves and sandals this morning.  I don't do that even in the summer.
• Residents at my condo are using the pool.  Normally we use the pool in the summer months and leave it to our house guests this time of year.  
• In the Saturday morning Christmas Parade Santa and Mrs. Claus were sweating. 
• I didn't see one Christmas sweater in my church yesterday.  

You'll be relieved to know that the next big national chill, coming in two or three days, will affect us.  We could dip down to the 70s.  Till then, if you live in Florida, drink plenty of water and stay in the shade.


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Dallas Buyers Club

As you know, I like redemption movies.  You're probably scratching your head wondering how I could call "Dallas Buyers Club" a redemption movie.  It is to me - and even in a scriptural way.  In the old testament the title "kinsman-redeemer" referred to the relative who saved a widow from starving by marrying her.  Most notable in the book of Ruth where Ruth makes herself available to Boaz in order to save herself and her mother-in-law, Naomi.

But I digress.

Dallas Buyers Club is about Ron Woodroof, who, in the process of doing drugs and drinking himself to death, discovers he has AIDS.  He's given one month to live.  The diagnosis turns this marginal and very distasteful person into a fighter for the rights of persons afflicted with HIV-AIDS.  And, by the way, he hates gays.

This mostly disgusting 24 hour a day party-er/brawler becomes, in pretty short order, a scientist/world wide drug smuggler - all in order to save AIDS patients.  His unlikely business partner and new best friend is transsexual Rayon.

This true story, about Ron Woodroof, and other patients like him, who started these Buyers Clubs around the country, saved thousands of lives.  And, along the way, Woodroof saved his own.  He lived for seven years.

Matthew McConaughey plays Ron Woodroof.  I think the massive amount of weight he lost for this roll is questionable but he was excellent in this roll.

Am I recommending this movie?  Maybe.  It features the underbelly of our country. I think it's good for people like me, who are no longer exposed to this world to be reminded that this is the way many of us live.

But if you're offended by horrible language, disgusting heterosexual sex, homosexual sex, heavy drug use (all kinds, good and bad) transexuallity, trailer parks, fighting, rodeo riding or pantie hose with runs in them, beware.


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My Shirt

My Shirt

In the early 1970s I lived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  My husband, Ken, was an urban minister and we were in the process of putting up subsidized apartments near downtown.  The architect who generously agreed to help make this happen was William G. Crawford.  He and his wife, Dottie, went to our church.  

Dottie was elegant, to say the least.  One day she invited me to go shopping with her.  She ended up buying me an expensive suit and shirt.  I suppose I should have been happy and grateful.  I was grateful but the concept of people buying ministers expensive gifts has always been distasteful to me.

I wore the suit a few times.  I have no idea what happened to it over the years.  But, over the years, I've looked at the shirt and have even tried it on a couple of times.  It's kind of a light gold color.  It's a Givenchy for Chesa.  Silk.  It has "Givenchy" embossed all over it. A couple of weeks ago I had it dry cleaned.

Yesterday I went to a birthday lunch with my Power Rangers.  I tried the shirt on but couldn't wear it.  I don't know why.  It looked good even though it's between 40 and 50 years old.

I have a big birthday coming up on the 18th.  I'm going to try to wear it that night.  Hope I can make myself do it.  Of course we can all understand the irony that I am now an architect's wife.

Built in 1970s.  Still standing. 

 


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What's Your Favorite Christmas Song?

That's what our minister, Bob, asked us this morning.  The person behind me said "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" but she'd just heard "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" while driving to church and couldn't get it out of her head.

Bob then talked about the first "Christmas" song.  Mary's song.  It's one of the most revolutionary songs ever written.  It's been banned in some churches in some countries.  It's written by this young woman who's pregnant and unmarried but knows something magnificent is happening to and through her.

So she decides to go with it.  She trusts God and says "Let it be."  Because God has taken care of stuff so far and he will in the future - which includes her future.

And here's the revolutionary part:  She says the rich are gonna be in trouble and some of them are gonna get toppled, while the poor and hungry are gonna get what they need.

Does this sound remarkably like some of our current revolutionary talk to you?

Bob mentioned the Beatles song this morning.  It was written about Paul McCartney's mother, not the mother of Jesus - but it could have been!

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
In my hour of darkness 
She is standing right in front of me, 
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. 

And when the broken hearted people
Living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be.  
                 Let It Be by Paul McCartney and John Lennon


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