This Sunday's sermon in advance...

This past week over 80 thousand people and nearly 40 million via television watched as Sen. Barack Obama accepted the nomination of his party for the Presidency.

Some, I suppose were curious, some wanted to see history in the making; some were looking for points to critique. But among the people there were many looking for a message, the kinds of words that would transform their lives. People from across the country have attended the Senator’s campaign events and often become overwhelmed with emotion. Oprah Winfrey, who called Obama the "One", spoke of how her time in Denver was the most powerful thing she had ever experienced and musician Kanye West said his attendance at the speech changed his life forever. They join the many stories of that type which have come from the campaign, people not interested necessarily in the specifics about how things will run or who will pay for them but seeking a message of hope and change. Those words and what they represent have carried a formerly little known Senator from Illinois to the pinnacle of power in our country and whatever one thinks about the actual politics it’s important to note how people have reacted to even the idea that someone could deliver them to better things.

This is the genius of Sen. Obama’s campaign. Deep inside of all us we know that our world, personally and collectively, is broken and while the Senator’s stands on some issues put him at distinct odds with the witness of historic Christianity he has skillfully tapped into that larger Christian narrative, the reality of our brokenness and the longing for salvation. His promise, like the promises of all politicians, is for a political revival, a secular salvation, the rearranging of the culture through the power of the state and by it the creation of a utopia where everyone has enough, justice is always done, and there is perpetual peace. He has successfully tapped into the innate human desire for Eden lost and shaped it to his message.

We know, of course, this is never going to happen. The day after an inauguration is the day when reality sets in and the promises, regardless of who makes them, fly away like smoke in the cold January wind. We hope for better but people are still the same and it’s not long before the new wears off and business returns to usual. The people who cheer and weep at rallies and events become cynical and bitter again as their heroes, and their message, are revealed as all too human. The Eden we hoped for, like the first, will slip, again, from our grasp.

The saddest part of this, though, is that we who actually do possess an authentic message of truth and change and hope in Jesus Christ have over the years largely been silent. We huddle in our church walls, or our witness has been so compromised by our own attachments to this broken world that what we have and who we are is never revealed. Politicians at best can change laws but Christ can change hearts yet the people who line up for hours to see a politician speak of hope and change will often never know of the One, Jesus Christ, who embodies hope and the transformation of each person and the world into its glorious potential.

One day our Lord will ask of American Christians “I gave you wealth and freedom unlike any other culture and what have you done with it?” And our only answer will be to put our hands in our pockets and stare at our feet. Because all around us are people who need something greater then themselves, something to rescue them from their own lives, something to believe in, and a core to hold them steady in the ups and downs of existence. We, by grace, have been given all this and more and commanded to share it but we have not. At the very moment when our friends and neighbors and family need us to point them to true light, living water, and eternal hope we are silent, our minds set somewhere far from forever.

These precious children of God, souls wandering from one dry well to another, looking to everything our culture can produce, good, bad or otherwise are in need of Jesus Christ and without him they’ll be lost, not just in some eternity to come but in every waking moment of their lives. They’ll follow one person or another for the sake of the possibility of hope. They’ll spend money on meaningless things. They’ll chase experiences. They’ll seek comfort in a stranger’s arms. They will drink until they disappear. They’ll pursue power, fame, ageless beauty, and celebrity. They’ll do anything for a moment of peace, for a fleeting glimpse of rest for their souls, for some light at the end of their tunnel, even if it never comes. And if they never encounter Jesus they will walk the earth empty and leave the same.

Yet what have we, as Orthodox Christians, done?

After the worship of God there is no greater act any Christian can do then to proclaim, in word and deed, the true message of hope, the true haven, as our liturgy says, for the storm tossed, the true light that has come into the world and cannot be extinguished by any night. This is not just the single greatest act of Christian charity but also our own loving response to the one who commanded us to go into all the world with the reality of Christ and transform it one person at a time, a task that will end only when God decides history as we know it is closed. Our lights, as Jesus says, are to shine and not be hidden. Our good works are to be real and tangible and draw praise to God. Our hope is to be shared with any who will receive it and the life that has been given to us must overflow us like living water gushing from a deep and pure well.

To do this we must accomplish two things.

The first is that we as Orthodox Christians must be converted ourselves to the message and person of Jesus. There is much discussion about “cradle” versus “convert” Orthodox but the truth is that we are all converts every day of our lives whether we’ve been in Orthodoxy 80 years or two weeks. We must grow in our faith, our zeal, our knowledge, our love, our sanctification, our holiness, and joy every day of our lives and even into eternity. We cannot give others something we do not have ourselves yet for all too often we have been more a convert of this broken world then of the life giving Christ. It’s well past time for Orthodox Christians to take their faith seriously, to know it, to love it, and to have it be the very core of their lives, the source from which all of our thoughts and actions flow.

The second thing we need to do is to see the world and everyone who lives in it through the eyes of Christ. Where there is brokenness, pain, struggle, sin, injustice, and harm we must see in all those things a call on us to enter into the human arena with the message and the reality of Christ, the only source of resolution to the darkness of the world. Yes we are called to worship within these walls and quite frankly every day of our lives wherever we are, but our life of worship, is supposed to flow out of us as well, every act of charity, every gift we give, everyone we bless, every time we speak on behalf of Christ is a continuation of worship, which by the root of the English word means declaring the “worthiness” or the “worth-ship” of God. Worship, then is not simply a thing we do but the way we are.

The Church was never designed to be a static entity catering to the needs of those inside but rather a living thing, an extension of the Kingdom of God, a collection of worshipping activists who become light, salt, and yeast, in the transformation of themselves and the world wherever it finds itself and to the optimal level of its ability. Anything less, no matter how nice the physical plant, the music, the preaching, and the ambiance, is just not the Church.

It’s time for we Orthodox Christians to be who we were baptized and chrismated to be. It’s time for this parish and every Orthodox church to hear in every bit of sin and struggle in the world a call to get out of our comfort zones, relearn and re-celebrate our Orthodox Faith, and leave these walls to bring the real hope and change that will always and only be found in Jesus Christ to a world of wandering hearts seeking something, someone, anything, to fill their empty hearts.

Never forget, God is taking note, the angels are watching, the saints are praying, and we have the souls of our friends, our families, our communities, and our nation in our hands. Bend your knees, roll up your sleeves, and lets get to the real work of hope and change.

Some wisdom from First Things...

On the decline of the mainline Protestant churches and their America.

A critical time...

Fall is starting to mark its place here in Minnesota and some of the trees are already changing. Soon the road south will be filled with tourists and the advent of "good sleeping weather" will be with us.

There will be much to do in the weeks ahead, buildings to erect, cleaning to do, and preparations for the visit of our Bishop. We race the onset of winter in these parts and the shorter days and cooler breezes lends an urgency to things.

But larger changes loom ahead, changes that involve not just buildings and paint but the transformation of our hearts. We must become something that to date we've never been taught to be or experienced, a vital movement of belief rooted in Gospel values. The situation is close to the edge and on our willingness to move beyond the safety of our small circles, both personally and as a parish, hangs the life of our church.

I've spoken of it before and will again but time is short. Demographics are not on our side, each person who moves, each person who opts for a casual relationship with the parish, and those who are present in body but not spirit, exponentially impacts what happens. What happens in the next few months will profoundly determine whether our parish is in a death spiral or emerging from the bottom of a trough towards better things.

So each trip along the river road has become a matter of mixed emotions for me. I do really care for what happens to St. Elias and the people who have stayed faithful all these years. They are good people and the potential of this little church remains large. I'm hoping for that change of spirit, that spark that lights the fire that gives these good people the will to become special, to step out of the comfort even a small and struggling parish can provide to something new and better. I have that hope inside but sometimes I wonder and that wonder leaves me struggling with large questions.

If God weren't involved in all of this...

The Fathers on Abortion...

A great article from WesternOrthodox on the Fathers and abortion.

On Gov. Palin and faith...

An interesting, short, and first look at the faith of the woman who may be Vice President.

If there is no God...

Wisdom from Dennis Prager...

What one almost never hears described are the deleterious consequences of secularism — the terrible developments that have accompanied the breakdown of traditional religion and belief in God. For every thousand students who learn about the Spanish Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials, maybe two learn to associate Gulag, Auschwitz, The Cultural Revolution and the Cambodian genocide with secular regimes and ideologies.

Hat tip to Orthodoxy Today

Person Dennis Prager

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Why abortion matters...

People wonder why we can't just "get over it" and often we're slandered as religious nuts or rubes attached to a single issue. But what a politicians believes about abortion matters, and often in a transcending way.

First it says something about the person's own spiritual and religious life. A person who claims Christianity as their faith and supports abortion is a person who either is willfully ignorant of the historic and continuing understanding of the Faith on this issue or is a person who's faith, in the end, is of the kind where it doesn't matter much in their day to day existence. That speaks to their character, whether their convictions are firm or malleable and what they would be willing to sacrifice in the short term for the sake of their own power and prestige.

Secondly a politician's stand on abortion says something about how they view the power of government. Our constitution was founded on the idea that human rights come, not from governments, but from God and that the government is instituted to protect those rights. This reasoning is why slavery, rightly, collapsed. The people who were enslaved were clearly human and thus were endowed, like everyone, with rights from God, rights that superseded the whims of politicians or courts, rights that needed to be recognized.

Whether you're the person who buys a pack of condoms or a scientist in the lab peering into the small smallest crevice of the human genome the debate over the beginning of life is over. At conception an entity is created and that entity, despite its size or appearance is human, a being awaiting only nine months of safety and care to emerge. Therefore that being, despite its pre-born status, has human rights. Just as slavery was morally wrong because the humanity of the slaves could not be denied so abortion is wrong for the same cause. A politician who supports abortion is saying, like the slave holders before them, that rights are bestowed by government, not God, and that government can decide that certain people are not allowed the full spectrum of rights not because of their behavior but because of their essence. This is a radical departure from the vision of the Founders of this country and people often hear the "choice" rhetoric without hearing the sinister implications behind it. Without the basic right to life of all humans every other right, every other ideal of our country, is meaningless.

It is quite true that the Faith is about more than the politics of abortion. There is a wide spectrum of issues about which our Faith can guide us and they all should be addressed. Each Christian, before they are anything else, is a member of the Kingdom of God and each should participate in the civil affairs of their nation with Kingdom values transcending all others. But very few issues cut to the heart of a person's inner most reality then the issue of abortion, where life and death can be decided on a whim and over 50 million have already perished by "choice".

A little wisdom from Breakpoint...

It used to be that people were known for being heroes. Doing something noble or worthy of praise would be reason for someone’s popular acclaim, but with the advance of mass media, a new phenomenon arose within American culture. People began to be known—just for being known. In media studies we’ve come to know this phenomenon as the rise of the celebrity.

Read more here...

Hat tip to Orthodoxy Today

Will...

It was a harder sermon than most to give last Sunday.

I reminded the church of a simple fact; as we're remodeling our building we need to remodel ourselves as well by making our parish a central part of our lives and reaching out to our community in word and deed. Our little church, like many other Orthodox parishes, can suffer from that kind of laxity that comes with age. Everyone likes the general idea of having a church but few are willing to produce the kind of effort it takes, the kind of personal responsibility required, the kind of vision turned into action that makes a parish thrive. Without it all our efforts at remodeling our building may simply mean we're preparing it for someone else, for the church, group, bookstore, or whatever that buys it when we're closed.

That's a hard thing to say, and the truth of it doesn't make it easier.

There are many things a Priest can do to help a parish but one thing always remains out of our grasp. We cannot create the will, the drive, that invisible something where people say "This is important to me, important enough for me to commit myself, my talents, my gifts, my energy, my resources, to make it happen." That will cannot be taught, it must be caught, and without it life in an Orthodox church can only be about holding on for as long as possible before time and demographics work their decay.

It's one of the stranger illusions of life in American Christianity and Orthodoxy in particular. People know if you don't feed a goldfish it will die and if you don't invest passion, time, and energy into your business it will go bankrupt. Yet that common sense often seems lost when it comes to our churches where the expectation of high returns on small investments is the order of the day.

Some of that seems to be the rancid fruit of centuries of either being a state church or a persecuted church. In the first few had to invest deeply of themselves because the church was always there, in the second the church was always in some kind of captivity so the idea of a horizon, of a dynamic, was often lost. The Orthodox who immigrated to this country largely brought one of the two of these visions with them and the combination has been poisonous to us in this land where parishes are free from persecution but required to make their own way in the world as well.

One would think that after a century or two of existence in this country we would have "gotten it" but apparently we often still miss this basic lesson, that in this country what you put in to anything often has a direct relationship to what you'll receive. And that's a hard thing to tell the people for whom you care, for whom you pray, and for whom you sometimes spend sleepless nights. I wish there was something I could say, something I could do, something to ignite an enduring passion for our little parish in people's hearts so they would find the way to reach down inside and draw on the gifts they were given in their baptism and chrismation and be what God would have them be. I know they would be better, happier, more alive, and closer to Christ. At times I ache for this in their lives.

Sadly, though, there are no words, no magic formula, no sure fire way for me to help light the spark of hope in these good people's hearts. I'll do my best to point the way, and everything else is in God's hands. But just in case you're reading this, please God, give these good people who've endured so much a glimmer of what could be and the courage to reach out and grasp it.

Peggy Noonan on Sen. Obama and abortion...

As to the question when human life begins, the answer to which is above Mr. Obama's pay grade, oh, let's go on a little tear. You know why they call it birth control? Because it's meant to stop a birth from happening nine months later. We know when life begins. Everyone who ever bought a pack of condoms knows when life begins.

Read more here...

Why you should be careful...

This article reminds us why we should be careful consumers of media, especially when it comes to statistics, numbers, and polls. Don't forget that much of the media exists not for the sake of truth but rather for revenue. The scarier the story, the more the threat, the more likely you'll look and watch the ads. Because of this the truth is often subservient to the impact of the potential story.

Hat tip to Five Feet of Fury

Why Packers fans should go to church...

Hat tip to Craig for the dose of truth.

Hang in there...

It's been busy for a while and I've got things to say but little time to write. Hang in there and I'll get on it, soon.

Above my pay grade...

In a recent forum at Saddleback Church Sen. Barack Obama said, among other things, that the question of when life begins is "Above my pay grade..." I'm not sure why he said that, I presume that he may have been trying to be coy in front of an audience that consisted largely of more or less conservative evangelical Christians or perhaps he wanted to use ambiguity to move towards the center and away from what has been a consistently pro abortion voting record. I can only speculate but it begs some questions.

-Making profound, even life and death, decisions is part of being President. If a question like this is "above your pay grade" are you indicating your personal level of readiness for the job?

-If a question about when life begins is "above your pay grade" then why should it be left to people who presumably are less qualified to answer it then you?

-If you have doubts about when life begins shouldn't you do everything you can to protect life in all its phases for the sake of the benefit of the doubt?

That I can rattle off these questions in less then a minute says something.

Learning the Liturgy...

Perhaps the greatest challenge in becoming a Priest was the suddenness of my placement at St. Elias. I was ordained one Sunday, had one Sunday to practice a Liturgy, and then was sent to St. Elias basically to figure it out for myself. I had been a Deacon for two years, of course, but watching and doing are two different things and ever since then I've felt like I've been playing "catch up" when it comes to serving the liturgies of the Church.

Complicating it is the reality there are few standard forms for serving the liturgy. For whatever time you have to learn the liturgy you largely learn it in the "style" of the person who teaches you and so whenever Priests gather there can often be confusion about who is doing what. Yes, there are rubrics in the various texts, instructions for what you should be doing, but these are often amended or left out entirely depending on the "style" of who is serving and whole sections of the Liturgy, items like the ektenia before the Lord's Prayer, can be dropped or added depending where you are and who you're with.

Because of this it can be a difficult task thing to serve the Liturgy well when you feel like you've simply not had the training to do it or aren't sure even what "good" is. Harder yet is serving with other Priests and feeling totally unprepared. If you make a mistake other Priests can be tough customers and I can't wait to stop being the "junior Priest" at some of these gatherings so some of the tasks fall away from me. Add my bi-vocational status and its lack of daily preparation time to that and it can be quite frustrating.

So what to do? Well, I'm reading the Liturgikon over and over again and trying to make sure that what I'm doing up front is as close to conformity with it as possible. And I try to do my best in the place between knowing the extreme seriousness of what I must do and the reality that in heart, soul, and technique I may never ever be good enough. Oh, and I pray that the people of St. Elias are forgiving when I slip up while I'm hanging on for the ride.

Pray for the peace of Georgia...

Russian and Georgian troops are at war in Georgia. Pray for peace in the nation where the flag represents Christ and the Four Evangelists. St. Nina and St. Nicholas intercede for them!

The sign of the Obama...

Continuing on the theme of Sen. Barack Obama as a new secular messiah is this article about an ad agency developing a hand gesture in the shape of an "O" that it hopes will be used by people to greet each other and signal their vision for new things and a new hope with the Senator.

In postings past I have observed that the Obama campaign and its followers have used quasi-spiritual symbolism to describe their candidate and what they hope will be his movement as well. I have also observed that this could be, in some part, related to the fact that the political left, largely devoid of traditional faith, has a need to constantly create new faith and new traditions to compensate for that lack because people are inherently traditional and spiritual.

I'm not surprised, then, that the people attached to the campaign would seek to create a faux hand gesture to communicate their faith, an ersatz sign of the cross if you will. I think that it, like a lot of the ideas and images coming out of the Senator's campaign, will come across to most people as kind of silly. But the hunger for meaning, identity, and transcendence that drives it matters and should be something we Orthodox think about as we live in this culture so rich in goods and poor in spirit.

That being said gestures, what we do with our body, matter, and its interesting that this campaign, as devoid of traditional faith as it is, understands this in a way that perhaps most Orthodox don't.

Preacher convicted of road rage...

Apparently he waved a gun and began cursing at a woman he claims cut him off on the way to church.

I don't approve, but I do understand, especially when my route takes me down Highway 61 and the autumn "leaf watchers" are out in force driving 30 in a 55 mph zone staring out the window without thinking that someone else in the world may actually need to get somewhere.

Lord, have mercy.

Little pink houses part three...

Well its been a couple of weeks now since the new folks moved in next door and life is beginning to settle down. Its comforting, in a way, to have the noises of a family and children next door, the music of life's routines.

I'm relearning some of life's lessons along the way as well.

I think that sometimes when we, as white people in this country, interact at close quarters with people of different races we feel there is some "special' way we must act. The casualness and comfort that marks the way we deal with others like us disappears and is replaced by an internal editor who watches over our speech, our actions, our emotions, and makes us more cautious then we need to be, more unlike ourselves.

I remember a scene from the old Archie Bunker television show where Lionel Jefferson, an African American, is with Mike, Archie's son in law, and they're playing one of those table games where you have to tell the truth. Lionel draws a card and tells Mike he wishes he wouldn't always talk to him about "black issues". When Mike challenges him about this and asks him what he'd rather talk about, Lionel responds, "How about the weather, you know black people have weather too..." And therein lies the point.

Among the worst things that have happened in this country is that people like the character Mike in that long ago TV show have grown up and taken control of the way we speak and interact with each other. The effect has been not to increase dialogue and friendship but rather to create barriers out of words and the constant potential for offense that actually drives people apart. People of different races have stopped learning how to speak with each other because the negotiations for what it acceptable language are ongoing and the cost of a mistake is high. Being politically correct has taken the natural interactions between us and turned them into potential flashpots.

Yes its wrong to be derogatory and mean but we've become so sensitive that we've retreated into silence rather than risk even the remotest possibility of harm. The result has been that we're stilted and careful when we interact with others and the normal bonds that would help us grow together are replaced by increasingly longer periods of social negotiation before we can grow comfortable with each other and become simply neighbors and friends.

The answer, I think, is just to be yourself. Don't be a bigot but don't also presume that you have to be the same. After all you're not identical to people of your own race so why should you expect to be the same as anyone else? Two people comfortable in their own skin will be able to bridge the gaps between them in a way almost all of the artificial "diversity" programs will never accomplish. Talk about the weather, sports, cars, or nothing at all and tell that silly editor in your head, that product of the Mike's weird utopian vision, to take a hike. After all black people have weather too and when they live next door its the same as yours.

What do converts want...

Rod Dreher reflects on a lecture by Terry Mattigly on the topics of converts to the Orthodox Church.

If you're a convert to Orthodoxy what do you want? For me I had hoped that coming into Orthodoxy I would find a community whose life carried the same depth, passion, and vigor of its theology. But having been in a number of faith communities I knew, somewhere, that much was probably going to be the same, some people passionate about their faith, some lukewarm, and some just along for the ride. Theologically Orthodoxy is a shining city on a hill but practically we're often just a little house with a flickering light at the bottom of a valley.

Was I disappointed? Not too much because I've been a Pastor before and I'm well aware of the gap between what should be and what actually is, even in myself. I would rather work to return a sense of passion and purpose in Orthodoxy, and myself, then be in the biggest "purpose driven church" in the world. Events, people, movements, they all ebb and flow but you can't replace truth and Orthodoxy has truth in spades.

Now it should be noted that a sense of passion, purpose, and mission is part of the "truth" of Orthodoxy, at least it should be and there are many Priests who would probably wish the people they serve were as "up" for proclaiming and living their faith as they are for a good discussion about falafel. But context is everything and many of the places where people are "up" have issues where they are sometimes in direct conflict with revealed truth and its much easier to restore passion from a basis of truth then to get passionate people steered towards orthodoxy. I've been in more then a few churches where people have been totally hyped but in that frenzy have come up with some pretty strange ideas and I'd much rather try to put some air on the coals of a tired Orthodox church then try to handle that kind of raging fire.

This, I presume, is what it means to have a mature faith. Certainly I would have liked to see Orthodoxy be more of a "movement" and less of a collection of parishes, but at the same time you love something as it is and hope that you, by your presence, can help bring out its best. Whether Orthodoxy will be better for me so is still up in the air but I'll give it my best.

Internet addiction is growing...

Ironically, you can read about it here.

I wonder if I'm spending more time on the www or just replacing the time I would normally spend reading newspapers and watching TV news with the web. My guess, though, is I'm probably on line way too much. Blame it on curiosity or laziness or whatever but I know that if I don't get away from the screens every once in a while I could turn into Jabba the Hutt.

Incense is good for you...

Apparently frankincense, a major component in many liturgical incenses, helps you relax and feel calm. I personally enjoy the "pine" incense we use at St. Elias and also like encountering what other churches use when I travel. If I go to a church where incense is not used it smells, for lack of a better word "bare" and something seems missing. I also feel at peace with the sight of it coming from the censer and ascending.

What do you like about incense? What scent? What aesthetic?

Hat tip to westernorthodox

A hard slap...

A story from Canada about a banner with "Jesus S#@*$" being flown over the city of Toronto as a "joke". Sometimes a person really wishes Jesus just once would say "Hey, forget that turn the cheek stuff and give them a good hard slap." But Jesus has endured worse from better and that's not what we're about. Pray for the poor, empty, soul who thought this was funny.

TV and autism...

An interesting article addressing possible relationship between television viewing and autism in children. Anecdotally I can tell you that television has ruined the art of the in depth sermon by creating a whole generation of people who's brains have been rewired by TV and can't endure more then ten minutes of the same person in front of them.

Oh and you might want to visit here as well and report back.

Orthodox Revolution RIP...

Some weeks ago I launched a blog entitled "Orthodox Revolution" but as of today I closed it. I'm spending way too much time in front of screens and I need to get out, breathe some fresh air, and get a life. So it's just back to my old friends at the Chronicles. Ah well....

Little pink houses part two...

We have a new family next to us and they're African American. So what?

After all, by our own choice we live in a racially mixed neighborhood, I've had black friends, even a date or two, but I was raised in the whitest of white worlds as a child in a small Wisconsin town and as a teen in the suburbs. From those safe distances it was easy to pretend that there wasn't a prejudiced bone in my body. But somehow, some odd way, next door is another thing altogether.

I'm feeling exposed. It's not about hate or that dreary and unintelligent KKK kind of stuff but I am being stretched by the new, the unexpected, the challenge of putting theory into practice, ideals into action. I'm embarrassed by a part of me that, despite all the facts, despite all my education, despite my daily interactions with people very different from myself, despite it all, is struggling, at times, with the arrival of the new neighbors next door, a nice couple with three kids and a dog.

Now if I was smart I would just shut up about all of this and pretend it wasn't there. But I want this out in the air and sunshine because I want it gone. To be who I was meant to be means that I have to find a way, like Christ does, to see the humanity in every person regardless of how they present themselves and love that person as myself. It appears the new neighbors have reminded me I have a ways to go on this, more things to sort out, and new ways to grow.

Thank you, Lord, for new neighbors.

Buddy...

He’s skinny now, a fragment of his old self with watery eyes and a weak voice. You can almost put one hand around his whole body and he looks tired. It’s like all the air has left him and only the heart is left. But he still has the eyes that look at you with a kind of gentle trust and he still gets up slowly to come to you for a gentle touch and the odd meow that’s his alone.

Something happens to old cats, happens too quickly. One day they seem sleek and alive and then suddenly without warning all the age catches up with them. No growing old in stages just everything all at once, or at least so it seems. It can be hard to look at, the sight of the ghost of a cat marking time. And yet something even more wistful looms.

In the wild, far from our eyes, nature herself would bring about both the beginning and the end. Her terrible laws would be enforced and something, some accident, some predator, some illness, some fate would return a cat to its cycle of life and death. But when they live in our world they endure our captivity but enjoy our bounties, the freedom from cold and fear and all those happenstances that normally make life a vapor by our standards. And so something happens to them that rarely happens outside our walls, they grow old, very old, and we must decide when there is too many years and too little life.

It’s not the techniques for this that are difficult. The sad duty, the thing we euphemistically call “putting to sleep” is quick and without pain, a matter of seconds. Many of us wish our own death could be so. The question is always the when. When is it right? When is it good? When is enough, enough? There is no numbing medicine for that, no anesthetic to ease the pain. In some ways this is good because it means we naturally shrink back from taking life, a trait we humans should always develop, but for us it brings to bear all the fears that come with being finite and still having power over life and death.

And they don’t make it easy for the most part. Even when an animal is desperately ill and deeply in pain they retain some of the spirit, the dignity, and the earlier form that attracted us to them. An old broken cat still purrs, still holds on to that something that makes them so unique, and we see that, and we remember in their faces all the times that have passed so quickly by and it makes it hard to let go. We want to hold on to every minute we can because we know that even if it is just an animal it still is, in its own way, a unique soul of a sort, an irreplaceable life.

Then at some point a kind of love takes over, a love stronger then our sense of loss and we realize that such a creature as this must not be allowed to endure another moment of a fragility which they cannot comprehend and deterioration they cannot transcend by faith or hope or meaning as we know it, and our fingers find their way to the phone.

It’s time, now, for Buddy to go. Buddy the beautiful old cat turned skinny and frail with time, true friend of an old lady till the day she died and companion for a whole floor of people who slowly but surely are losing their memories. Blind in one eye he had to turn in circles to look over his shoulder and walk with his whiskers to the wall for direction but every hand that reached out was rewarded with his gentle response. His life was a token of what will one day be, the time when the ancient fears dividing animals and man will disappear into Light. How different the world would be if each of us made as many people happy as that old cat with the funny meow and the beautiful, soulful, eyes. And if there is a life of some sort beyond this for him I wish him a well deserved rest.

A little more John Lee just because...

Little pink houses...

There's a little pink house next to mine and it never seems to hold its occupants very long.

Today, if I understand things correctly, there'll be a new family moving in and that should make five groups of folk who have tried to make that house a home in the nearly fifteen years we've lived in our neighborhood. Two families fled for the suburbs, one collapsed into foreclosure in a sea of dysfunction and drugs, the last couldn't make the rent after the father of her baby became allergic to child support. Now a new family will give it a try.

Up and down our street the block has been fairly stable and the upkeep crucial to maintaining a quality neighborhood has by and large been done. But this little pink house has been our crazy uncle, the guy who drinks too much at family reunions that we put up with in embarrassed silence. I've lost count of the times when we needed to shovel the walk or cut the grass or kill weeds and clean doggy stuff in self defense. It was all I could do to resist going over with a hedge clippers while the place was empty and taking out the tree growing in the front hedge and the six foot tall weed by the door.

Perhaps this sounds petty but the truth is that when you live in the city you don't have to be fancy but you do have to be clean. We live close together and our defense against the bad guys coming in and making us a block of crack houses is that united front of clipped lawns, pruned hedges, painted buildings, and shoveled walks that says "We pay attention here and you had better just move on." Poverty doesn't cause crime, crime causes poverty and if a block can be compromised the people holding fast for the good will leave and when they do the neighborhood collapses into house after house of people there only because they have no other choice.

So I'm hoping for the best. I'm hoping that this new family, however they're constructed, will be vigilant and responsible and even though they're just renters will still have some pride in the place they live. You gotta stay positive, but just in case it looks like things are going south I'll keep my hedge trimmer handy and the phone book open to the office of the city housing inspector.

Festival part 2...

It's festival plus two today and the inside clean up gets underway.

Usually on the evening of the festival itself all the things that need to be returned to the church are put in the basement and left, unsorted, for a few days while people recover. A day in the hot sun wrings everyone dry and any kind of ambition has been long poured out on the festival. Have dealt with the public and each other for eight plus grueling hours we gather up everything we can to take away, turn on the fire house to wash the grounds, and scatter home.

One of the interesting things about a festival is how much it reveals about the character of the people in a parish. When the crowds are big, the lines long, and a group of people are in a hot kitchen together trying to make it all work you quickly discover the nature of the person passing you rice, and yourself. Whatever else one could say about St. Elias her people, for the most part, can bind together, work hard, and willingly assume tasks with a minimum of complaint. Visitors from other Orthodox parishes were astonished at how efficiently and thoroughly our small parish approached the event and one visitor, comparing parishes, said "These folks at St. Elias have just kicked our $@#." I'll take that as a compliment.

It was good, as well, to have a decent group of people from our sister parish up the river, St. George. They came down seeking to help and learn how to hold a festival but at the same time they got to know us as well. The people of St. Elias needed to see they're not alone, and the people of St. George need to know there's a little church down the river they can pray for and visit if they so choose. There have always been family ties between the two churches but my hope is that there will also be ties of the heart that come from our working together.

The numbers aren't in yet, they matter but then again in a certain sense they don't. We banded together, we worked hard, we gave of ourselves for something greater and opened ourselves to the community. Yes, it would be good to make money from it all and we could sure use it but at the same time I hope it reminds us, again, of the possibilities in many parts of our life as a parish if we put that same spirit and effort to the other tasks that lie ahead for St. Elias.

We'll see, but right now I think I'll just stay in the shade for a few days.

A short video...

Festival...

Sunday is the St. Elias parish festival. For those of you who are Orthodox I actually don't have to write any more than this, you can fill in the lines yourself. For the rest I'll continue.

Whatever our jurisdictional differences in this country we Orthodox share at least one thing in common, most of us have festivals of one kind or another. At festivals we feed strangers, dance for strangers, hold raffles for strangers, and find other ways to entertain them, for a price. Of course that's a hard and cynical view of things. There's more to festivals than that, but the financial part is certainly important. Many parishes make significant income via their festivals and over the years we've gotten really good at giving our friends and neighbors quite an afternoon or weekend for their tickets.

St. Elias is no exception. The people plan ahead, work hard, and produce an amazing five hour Sunday afternoon event where we can feed and entertain anywhere from 500 - 1000 people. That's not bad for a parish of around 50 plus active members. And the food really is good, in fact having been in several denominations over the years I can assuredly tell you the food in Orthodoxy is simply the best. I've had stuff to eat at St. Elias during Lent that's better than many people could do on their best day.

But the truth is I'm torn about the whole festival thing. It takes weeks to plan and execute a festival and about 20 seconds to write a check. If every Orthodox Christian simply tithed we could rid ourselves of the hours spent sweating in front of steaming pots and smoking grills. I hate that feeling that hangs over all of our plans, the hope that everything turns out okay, that the weather is fine, that people come, that nothing too strange happens, the knowledge that we really do need this money to make ends meet. The atmosphere of a festival can be quite fun but underneath, for many Orthodox parishes, is a kind of grim, make or break, determination.

And yet the work of a festival can draw us together in that most ancient of ways, a shared task. It also gets us out in the community and in LaCrosse, like many small cities, church events are also community events. It's not unusual for the local television stations to provide some coverage and friends of members and just the curious attracted by the smells (did I tell you that we can really cook?) drop by. It's also kind of a family reunion for us. Orthodox who rarely attend church, people who have left but still have an emotional connection, and family friends stop by. We can reconnect at a festival, the picnic being a kind of safe ground where we catch up with each other.

We've made some changes, as well. We serve the Divine Liturgy on Sunday morning before the festival outdoors and on the grounds. It calls us to higher things and in its own way sanctifies all that follows. We pledge a tithe of our income to a special need. Last year it was orphans, this year we'll give the money to help with flood relief. I hope it reminds us that all our blessings are from God and that we should always return a gift as a sign of gratitude. We provide literature and books for those interested in the Faith. Is it perfect? No. Is it a start? Yes.

So if you're Orthodox you know what the next few days will look like. Say a little prayer for us for all the usual things, good weather, good attendance, and good service. If you're thinking about Orthodoxy just know that some day you might get the tap on your shoulder asking you to take up a task for your parish at the festival. And if you just happen to be passing by the Oktoberfest grounds in LaCrosse this coming Sunday stop in, the food really is that good.

Brett Favre...

One thing is certain, Brett Favre will finally retire. He simply has to choose whether he'll go out with grace or as a has been on a cart. Regardless, it's sad to see a person with so much who seems to be so empty.

John Lee Hooker...

Saying goodbye part 2...

I made the mistake of looking at the Guitar Center website and seeing what they were asking for the instruments I had traded in. Not a good idea because they usually, and I knew this, give you about half of their future selling price.

So the mixed emotions come in. It was a good thing to simplify and get down to the basics. Clutter has its own kind of weariness. But I came to understand again, that things are passing and no matter how valuable you may think they are in the passion of the moment their price fades and and all things will eventually be rendered worthless.

Now I think I'll go upstairs and rediscover why I got the new instruments in the first place...

Simple pleasures...

A cat who knows just exactly how to curl up next to you in bed.

Wisdom from Tony Snow...

A very well written article in "Christianity Today" about cancer, life, and death, from Tony Snow, a devout Catholic, and former presidential press secretary and reporter who passed away last week.

May his memory be eternal.

Hat tip to Get Religion

Tired...

I believe I may have set my personal record for sleep last night. Went to bed on Friday at around 5:30 pm and woke up around 8:00 am this morning. I must have been more tired then I thought.

Saying goodbye...

It's always hard to say goodbye and when you're a musician letting an instrument go can be melancholy. But its a fact of life; times change, people change, music changes, and your need for an particular axe flows with it all. The darling of your life fresh from the music store finds a way to the back of your rack and then its off to the store as a trade in.

I wanted to simplify, to move from six basses to just what I need. I wanted to add a guitar to increase my range for songwriting. So I traded in my six string, my fretless, my four string, and an electric mandolin in for a single four string (Fender Precision) and an acoustic (Dean Exotica). And despite the brand new instruments at home, each wood grain with great tone and function, I still miss the old ones.

That's natural. An instrument channels your thoughts, your faith, your emotions, and some of your deepest passions to the world. Yes, it's a thing but it's a thing that becomes part of you and sometimes part of your identity. I will miss the late at night moments with each of them, that quiet time when I could think about the day and life and let the music carry things through. Yet there was also a hunger to let the clutter go, to focus, to find the "one" in the many and to expand in a new direction. Eventually that won out.

Things change and perhaps some day the new instruments in my attic studio will take that ride in the back seat to a music store. But right now I'm in between, missing the old, enjoying the new, and only the music remains the same.

The stones cry out...

An article on a stone tablet dated before Jesus and speaking of a Messiah who would die and rise again in three days.Here's Get Religion's take on it. Interesting?

She's not there...

I still have that sweet kind of tired feeling from a night at the concerts.

In this case it was a double bill free concert at the Taste of Minnesota festival featuring The Zombies and Eddie Money. My sister was my accomplice, we came early and sat close drinking Sprite to combat the heat and eating popcorn well, because it was cheap.

Eddie Money was loud and in your face, doing his best to generate energy from the crowd and catch a bit of the groove that made him famous in the 80's. The mix blurred out his vocals and sometimes the distinctions between the instruments but at its best it produced that jumpin' up and down live concert feel where lights and sound and moment blend together.

The opening act, though, was actually the best. 60's British group, The Zombies, back and touring again after who knows how long, took the stage for their third concert of an American swing and it was hippie time in St. Paul at least for an hour. Now it wasn't actually the entire Zombies of those days gone by, but it was the lead singer and keyboardist, in effect the core, that came to play with a quality group of support musicians. And yes, while there were a whole bunch of folks with grey hair and tie dyed shirts in the crowd, The Zombies also played a great show for a new audience of people, like myself, who were children when they first toured.

Most folks, if they know of The Zombies at all remember a couple of songs including "Time of the Season" and "She's Not There" but their set included other popular but lesser known songs, a few from their current CD, and the hit "Hold Your Head Up" from the group Argent which emerged from the remnants of the Zombies in the 70's. But there was something else happening at the show.

I think the popularity of some of these "dinosaur' acts lies partly in their ability, by just being present, to recall what many perceive to be better times, some long ago youthful past. But for newer people the appeal seems to be bands that actually play their instruments. Its kind of a shock for kids raised on rap and shredding to see music featuring changes of tempo, musicianship, and varying volume levels. There's mood there, not just tons of faux cynical anger and posing, and vocal quality as well; words that mean things without profanity. There's a world of difference between Eminem's nasal rantings and The Zombies "A Rose for Emily's" tale of lost love and heartache. And some of the folks seemed to be getting it.

Anyway, now its Monday morning and I'm tired and making the best of my day off with a bit of the music still swirling around in my head. To whoever called me from LaCrosse during the concert I'm sorry you couldn't hear me because I had great seats by the stage but I left a message between concerts and I'll call back today.

America...

It's the 4th of July and everything is fairly quiet around St. Paul. Most folks are just laying low, hanging around with family and friends. I'll be at a Twins baseball game tonight and then get ready to head to LaCrosse in the morning.

I've been thinking about the shape of things lately, the way of the world and the future of this land. We're in a crazy time now, possessed of a politics of selfishness and a culture grown tired. It looks like another election where we'll have to choose which person hurts us less and a year when most of us will watch with open mouths as forces larger than us play the game with our lives as pieces.

Yet I know that some of this is real, some of this is hype, some of this is our foolishness, and some of this is just a generation coddled by materialism coming to terms with limits. And as bad as it can get sometimes I still am glad that over a century ago my great grandparents made the trip from what was then Prussia and came to this land. Things were hard for them, too, in their own way and they made it and I'd like to think that some of that spirit remains.

I've traveled to other countries. I respect other countries. But this one, the United States, is home and always will be.

Happy Americans...

We're #16! We're #16!

Election cereal...

Viva Viagra...

Perhaps the most annoying commercials on television are those pathetic gatherings of men singing "Viva Viagra..." to the tune of the Elvis song "Viva Las Vegas". The King is most certainly turning in his grave and every one of the actors should have their ear flicked just for showing up for the gig.

What is your most annoying commercial?

Thoughts from the road to Grand Rapids...

Back from a mid week run to Grand Rapids, Michigan, and the Midwest Diocesan Parish Life Conference. I've seen enough of cars for a while but learned a few things along the way...

Don't use Hotwire or Priceline to make reservations. When they lock in that "special" rate for you the contract is non negotiable and they will penalize you for any change in schedule no matter how trivial. Think a hundred times before pressing their buttons.

A Chevrolet Aveo has great gas mileage and plenty of room, but the seats have no support for a long drive. If you want to rent one make sure to get out and stretch every hour or so to avoid, so to speak, a cramping of the buns.

That Orthodox Bishops don't go insane within a year of their consecration proves the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. Bishops are seldom left alone, always overworked, and our Bishop MARK went to his father's funeral on Monday and then was present for the Diocesan convention, and all of us, on Wednesday. I can't imagine the life of a Bishop and every one of them should make at least a hundred grand a year with one month off.

The old saying that everything can change in an instant is true. On our way north into Michigan, in the vicinity of Benton Harbor, there was an accident. Apparently a few minutes ahead of us a car and a truck collided and two lanes were closed. As we passed the scene the fire crew was rolling out a body bag.

I'm not as alone as I thought. When Priests gather together they talk and I was reminded that others are working full time jobs and trying to help missions and small churches get on their feet. I wish it wasn't so. I wish mission parishes had all the financial support they needed and small church pastors would get the tools they need to give new life to their charges. But until then knowing that my lot is shared makes it easier and helps me focus my prayers for my brothers in arms fighting this good fight.

Filed under "I couldn't resist"...

After the service a young couple talked to a church member about joining the church. He hadn't met the husband before, and he asked what church he was transferring from. After a short hesitation, he replied,"I 'm transferring from the Municipal Golf Course."

Simple pleasures...

Open road. Hot wind in your face. Thin Lizzy on the radio.

Simple pleasures...

Laundry hanging on the clothesline, way better than the dryer.

A little work...

I'm doing a little work to recreate and refocus this blog so hang in there with me. My hope is to have this blog become more autobiographical, more focused on reflection and writing and moving the comments about the greater culture to another blog OrthodoxRevolution. Stay tuned.

A little bass...

Out of control...

An AP article about the world being out of control brings two things to mind.

First, I'm not sure that the world is worse then its ever been, its just that with modern media we know more about it, in fact we're immersed in it. 500 years ago there were wars and famines and all kinds of nasty stuff happening all over the world, just no TV cameras. Remember folks, media is not about the truth, its about getting you to look so they can sell commercials and disasters make you look.

Second, the world is only coming apart if your only hope is in this world. If you were counting on humans things to save you then when they fail so does your heart because, as Jesus said, where your treasure is there will you heart be as well. People of faith need to see hard times as a reminder to put ultimate trust in God and a call, not to panic, but to do whatever is possible to alleviate human suffering.

Another simple pleasure...

Opening the car window on a hot day, sitting forward, and letting the breeze dry out the back of your shirt.

Miscellaneous thoughts...

Politicians are the only folks who can mess things up and then campaign against their own mistake.

If they have to advertise, they're not really a psychic. A real psychic would be calling you.

A simple rule: If you want less of something tax it, if you want more subsidize it.

The simplest diet costs nothing: eat less, move more.

Counting blessings...

I recently had a Priest from Ohio write after he learned that I traveled over a thousand miles per month back and forth to St. Elias and tell me he'll never again complain about his 50 mile commute. It brings up a good point.

Every parish, every assignment, has its strengths and weaknesses. Because we Priests are often the only ones of our kind for miles and because we largely work alone the struggles of our tasks often feel more significant because we have little to which they can be compared. Our problems are our own in a unique way and our isolation magnifies their significance. Everything has to be seen in balance.

I drive a lot but at the same time I work with a dynamic, proactive, and solid Parish Council. There are other Priests who have larger churches and higher incomes but their parishes are in conflict. What can you say? To survive in ministry you have to see the larger picture, not in a dreamy idealistic way, but with reality tempered by hope. You're not perfect, your Parish isn't either. You'll have problems, but then so does the Priest up the highway.

Sometimes realizing this just takes an email from Ohio.

A simple pleasure...

One of the great simple pleasures of life, taking off your shoes and socks at home after a long day of work. Ahhhhhhh!

Orthodox Revolution...

I'm looking for writers and thinkers for a new site called Orthodox Revolution...

Education vs Paranoia...

When I first started this blog I hoped to present a snapshot into my life as a Priest traveling down the river road from St. Paul, Minnesota and LaCrosse, Wisconsin. The road allows time to think and time to think is the seed of writing.

As I traveled around the www myself I began to see a picture of the world that sometimes left me cold. The www thrives on the freedom of speech, the ability of people like you and I to investigate, learn, share, and encounter as journalists in our own right. Yet such freedoms are often under threat. In past times, especially in the West, the idea had been that free speech was dynamic and a good for its own sake, the free give and take of ideas the definition of a free people. Repression of speech was the mark of dictators, repressive regimes, and a backwards past. This is changing.

Across the West there has been a significant contraction of free speech. Whether in the speech codes and blinding uniformity of much of American academia to the human rights commissions of Canada to the hate speech laws of Europe the idea that speech is best encountered with more speech is gradually dying and being replaced by the idea that those in power have the right, for the sake of some notion of fairness or tolerance, to suppress speech in the hope of an elusive harmony.

This, of course, is hogwash. Repression of free speech doesn't produce more tolerance it produces a fascism where the powerful maintain power by denying dissent. Repression of speech doesn't produce human advancement, it smothers it as good ideas die for the fear of expressing them. Repression of free speech doesn't produce enlightenment because it limits the horizons of human thought. Societies that permit the repression of speech eventually decline, the victims of the intellectual, social, spiritual, and political contraction that comes with denying expression.

I believe its time for people of good conscience to begin to get educated about how their rights of free speech are being chipped away around the world. Education means facing the facts and becoming aware of how things actually are. This is not about paranoia, seeing things that aren't there, but about opening your eyes and seeing the big pictures often obscured by the day to day business of living. Too often we find ourselves so busy with the miscellania of our lives that the larger trends of our culture, especially its darker side, can achieve their effect in stealth. We fall asleep and wake up to a different world in the morning.

We need to rediscover, again, that freedom requires constant vigilance. Freedom is messy sometimes, it requires the engagement of the free to maintain it, and sometimes means that we have to live in discomfort. Too often we humans are willing to surrender our freedom in the hope of avoiding the work, the discomfort of what it means to be free. At times we hope, instead of freedom, for a world where we control the puppets strings and achieve our vision of utopia by silencing dissent. Mostly we're just lazy and don't care about what happens outside our own comfort zone. The result is that most precious right, the right to learn, grow, speak, debate, and express ourselves without fear is being, sometimes harshly and more often quietly, eroded and as it does we may find ourselves descending into a long night stunting the human soul for generations.

Love and marriage...

I'd like to underscore something to put some context into the posts about same sex marriage that are posted on this blog.

We need to know what we're up against as traditional Christians. There are movements afoot by certain elements of the gay community to try not just for accommodation by the greater culture but to use the power of law and society to harass and marginalize us. In the same way that gay activists used Christian's natural compassion and unwillingness to close doors to engage in an endless round of "dialogue" designed not to seek understanding but rather to wear down opposition the larger society is now experiencing this skilled maneuver aided by the deep sympathy of many in the media and academic worlds to the gay causes. The goal for these people is victory and we need to understand this.

Knowing that, however, does not mean we must respond in kind. We must be firm, factual, truthful, but also loving and understanding. By this I mean we cannot weaken our Christian vision but we must understand that our vision includes not just the truth but grace as well. Our goal is not social conquest but salvation. Those who oppose us, as harsh and vicious as that opposition can be, are still objects of God's love, persons in His image, and although we believe they have strayed in a part of their life (just as we have strayed in parts of ours) we can never lose the hope that one day they, and the whole world if possible, could be reconciled to God in Christ.

I'm not advocating quietism, the living of our lives under the radar of life in the hope that the world will leave us alone. We can and should be involved in all the processes of our culture. Rather I believe we need to live as revolutionary Orthodox Christians, working out our own salvation and through this bringing salvation to others and then to the larger culture. One person at a time our lights must shine and and the be passed on. In time, as in many cultures of the past, the light of Christ, the light which can never be overtaken by night, will again prevail.

It would be easy to see what is happening in the larger world and grow angry. It would be easy to see our culture so full of flagrant and unhealthy sexuality and grow disgusted. Instead we need to see to our own salvation and as part of that pray. When you see two men romantically kissing in public, pray for them. When the newspapers are full of pro-gay propaganda pray for the people mentioned and the writers as well. When court cases emerge pray for the judges who will decide. Pray for their salvation, not for revenge, and pray for wholeness and healing for them and yourself.

Above all remain confident and do not give in to fear. History remains in God's hands and the end of things will not escape God's love, God's plans, and God's design.

New Car...

I just put down my deposit on a Smart Car. It'll take about a year to arrive and hopefully I'll be settled in one place. It's a decent car, lots of room for two inside, and should be a great car for a non traveling Priest to use for calls. Mine will look like the one pictured above. My first Pastor car was a Ford Festiva, which I dearly loved, and I hope this one will do as well. The Smart Fortwo has good gas mileage 40/45 by 2007 standards, 33/41 by 2008, easy to park, easy on the earth, and fun to drive. A good little city car.

One of the things people may not know is just because I'm skeptical about the global warming hype doesn't mean I'm not an environmentalist in my own way. I feel that taking care of the environment and living on the Earth in the lightest way possible is about respect for God's creation. I like to think that not consuming as much is a way to promote peace in the world. I believe we have a moral responsibility to, as best we can, leave God's creation in at least as good, and hopefully better, shape as we found it. It's just that I guess I'm not "Al Gore" green so much as "Garden of Eden" green, if that makes sense.

The Bible as hate literature...

Many of us here in the US are completely unaware that in our neighbor to the north, Canada, there has been a concerted effort among certain gay and leftist activists to use various governmental and quasi-governmental bodies as hammers against people who stray from a politically correct orthodoxy. Of particular concerns are the various human rights commissions who receive complaints and have the power to act on them, including assessing penalties and forbidding certain kinds of speech, without following judicial process, rules of evidence, or even the various rights spelled out in the Canadian Charter.

The most visible current case is that of Mark Steyn a conservative columnist who has written a book about, among other topics, the spiraling Muslim birth rates in Europe and the potential demographic fall out. He has been brought before a human rights commission in British Columbia by a Muslim man who claims that he has been harmed by an article in a magazine covering roughly the same ideas as the book even though the facts, figures, and quotes are true and often merely recount what Muslims leaders themselves say. Mr. Steyn will almost certainly lose the case, virtually every one brought up before these commissions does, and will have to spend precious time and money to continue his defense (the government of Canada covers the expenses of the complaintant).

There have also been Christian clergy brought up before these comissions and draconian infringements on the rights of these clergy to speak, especially on the topic of sexuality, have resulted. It looks, for now, that if Canadians themselves don't wish to fight for their freedoms and their leaders stand back that the country will gradually descend into a quasi-totalitarian state where the rights of those who disagree with the current political correctness will be gradually shrunken to the point where they are meaningless.

First, pray for Canada and the handful of brave Canadians that are fighting these travesties in the public arena. Second, as much as possible refuse to do business with Canada. Spend your travel dollars elsewhere and tell the authorities about your unwillingness to support a system of government bent on oppressing traditional religious believers. Third see what has become of Canada and realize that some of the same hate crimes and hate speech laws now being used to suppress religious freedom and dissent are in place or coming soon to this country. Speak now so your rights won't be taken later. Hold your legislators electorally liable for their votes on these matters. Get educated because seemingly benign laws can be used with terrible effect in the wrong hands and when they come knocking on your door you'll discover how.

A statement on same sex marriage...

While I have theological disagreements with Roman Catholicism I have often admired the ability of their Bishops to make precise, cogent, and reasoned arguments on issues of debate in the public square.

The world is flat...

An article exploring the historic myths and realities in the conflict between Islamic and Christian civilizations. Read, return, and comment.

Zero...

I was working out this morning and the time came for the ski machine to register my heart beat. For a moment the number was "zero", not a good thing for a guy from a family with heart problems. Of course it was a glitch in the machine, I'm writing this aren't I, but it's always worth a pause.

I think about it from time to time, the idea of having a ticking machine in my chest with a propensity to one day just give up on the spot. I try to exercise, eat right, do good things, but the odds are the odds and with a brother who passed at 44 and a father who died at just barely 60 I'm aware of any bump in my chest in a way that others are not.

Now the tests show everything is okay. I've had pictures taken, wires attached, treadmills under me, and scanners over me. Every once in a while my heart throws in an extra beat or pauses between them but that's normal and so, for my age, is my heart. But its still there, the sense that time could be short, a kind of presence lurking in the background.

The interesting thing is that I'm not particularly afraid. I'm not crazy about the idea of dying mostly because I think of all the stuff I'll miss. I'm that way about sleeping, too, for the same reason. But the whole thing has been clarifying and rejuvenating for me. Knowing I might have a deadline, and not just an imaginary one but one that could be close, has made me better. I try not to idle away the time. I make sure that I give myself to good things. I plan on laughing more, sweating the small stuff less, and enjoying each day. Am I perfect about this? No, sometimes I still just flop in front of the TV and mindlessly scan the channels, but I also went outside yesterday and read excerpts from St. Basil's "On the Holy Spirit" and then just let the evening sun wash over me whenever I felt like it.

I've got as long way to go on all of this, or maybe not, but it's at least a start.

Sex in the City indeed...

1 in 4 New Yorkers have genital herpes...

Another interesting car...

Since I travel a lot I pay attention to cars. This one is interesting...

For cat lovers...

A backbone...

Some folks in the Church of England are developing a backbone...

I couldn't resist...

Scientists in New Zealand are in the process of developing a shot they say will reduce the emissions of methane gas from cattle and sheep. Apparently the emanations, both front and back, are a significant source of greenhouse gas but when I read the article I had a picture in my mind of these poor bloated animals dotting the fields with distressed looks on their faces and no relief in sight.

I want one...

The Aptera 230 mpg, $30,000, available only, for now, in California but production starts in fall of 2008. The folks who designed this are going to be very wealthy. Buy your stock now.

Political things...

I've had a number of postings about Sen. Barack Obama over the months and the presumption probably is that I'm a Republican of some sort.

Actually I'm not. I've voted for Republican candidates in the past but largely as a "This one will hurt me less..." vote then "Wow, I'm inspired" vote. Whatever else President Bush is he has appointed judges who are less likely to meddle with my life then others and that, for example, is a plus. Of the two major party candidates running neither sends chills up my spine.

Among the books I've been reading lately is "The Revolution: A Manifesto" by Rep. Ron Paul. The mainstream media have widely dismissed him as a crank but I appreciate his, unfortunately radical in these times, idea that we should govern the country by sticking as closely to the actual constitution as possible. That for those ideas he has been publicly marginalized, although he's a huge "underground" success, says something about the state of things these days. Not many Americans have read the Constitution and I suspect if they did they'd look at it and the current state of things and say "Something's wrong here." I suppose that makes me, in general, a "constitutionalist" because I think as a matter of politics the American experiment has abandoned its origins to its own detriment.

My interest in Sen. Obama, though, is largely as a cultural phenomena. His politics of change is hardly that and by the way neither is Sen. McCain's. Sen. Obama's programs represent nothing new, just a different packaging of decades old leftist ideas but the kind of 'rock star" quality around him intrigues me. Some of this is the media, many of whom see him as the "next big thing" and instead of doing their jobs want to get in on the action. Some of it is his personal style. Sen. Obama has mastered the art of African American preaching and even if don't agree with or understand what he is saying his oratorical skills are lightyears above Sen. McCain's, a man who always appears in speeches with the look of someone at the dentist. Some of it is our American desire for something new in politics and even if his ideas are leftovers his face is not and I suspect some of his support is a way for some Americans to "pay back" for the horror of slavery and segregation.

Yet its a long way to November and we'll see what happens. The greatest political act of all is your own conversion because as it progresses it touches the whole world with truth and light. In four years there will be another set of folks on the television pitching ideas but that truth will remain.

Campaign promises...

Elect Sen. Obama and the planet will heal? What job is he exactly running for?

I think it's already been taken.

A survey of Orthodox Priests...

A survey of Greek Orthodox and Orthodox Church in America Priests.

Obama on his personal faith...

An interview with the Senator on faith.

Highway 60...

The bridge over the Mississippi River at Hastings, Minnesota, has been under repair for some weeks now, the result of inspections begun when another bridge up river in Minneapolis collapsed last year. Being the only bridge for miles the delay can sometimes be up to half an hour as people crowd the one lane to alternatively go north and south. Having another route is a necessity.

Savvy travelers know you can go north of Hastings to Prescott, Wisconsin, cross the river there and then return to Minnesota at the quaint river town of Red Wing and head south along the river road. Or you can take Highway 52, crossing the river at St. Paul and any number of eastward roads back to the river through the farms and bluffs. And this was our plan, Highway 52 south almost to Rochester and east on 60 through Zumbrota Falls to Wabasha on the river.

As a child I always felt a kind of pity for the kids in Zumbrota and Zumbrota Falls. I have no idea why they gave such an odd name to the towns. Perhaps it was a Native name or about whoever settled the place but it started with a "Z" and that meant whenever the radio stations announced the school closings due to snow and weather the kids in places like Andover learned their fate early while those in Zumbrota had to wait. If you're 8 years old and you really want a "snow day" off from school its a special kind of torture. That being said I've never been to either place and so we turned left on Highway 60 and headed towards the river to find see what we were missing.

The normal course of roads heading towards the river through southeastern Minnesota is a path over rolling farm land with a steep descent to the river through a cut in the bluffs, what people on the Wisconsin side call a "coulee". Like the Ozarks the bluffs along the Mississippi River in this part of the world are not mountains, or even hills, rather they are, as they say down south, "hollows" places where the river has worn down the land on the edge of the prairie. In the bottom of the valley they stand up like mountains but from the sky they look like a giant cut in the land.

This was what I was expecting as I traveled east, miles of nice farms with the first green hints of corn in the fields and then a sharp scenic descent. But for some reason the coulees extended miles back from the river along Highway 60, amazing valleys cut deep into the heart of Minnesota following the path of the Zumbrota river to the Mississippi. Several times I thought, "We're getting close to Wabasha..." as the road traveled down and then we would go for miles via twisted scenic roads with valley walls on either side.

Nestled in between it all was the little town of Zumbrota Falls. One gas station, a few bars, and a church on the main drag with houses on any place of land level enough to hold them steady. The whole thing was hidden like a secret in the river valley, a secret most probably didn't notice as they drove by but one which probably revealed itself to anyone who wanted to stay a while. In my imagination it was a town that felt like those forts we would make out of pillows when we were kids, a tiny safe space protecting us from the world, even if for a moment.

I'd like to think there still are places like that in the world. I'm probably wrong. I'm sure they have dish and computers and all the gadgets required to bring the world into their quiet valley. But hey, it's my dream and I can think what I want! Right? Regardless I plan on coming back, certainly in the fall when the leaves have turned and the air will be cool while the trees are aflame with their colors. I may even may the place my imaginary home town and drop in now and then to watch the river flow. Who knows?

And for some reason I think this all is just the start of the story of Highway 60.