like, you know,
Dark square, 72% with forest mint this morning, up too early yet reluctant to go back to sleep and risk waking at nine o'clock, so wastefully having a second square with coffee to engage the brain. Rain was expected overnight, but though clouds obscure stars, moon and planets, the porch rail is dry. My weather map shows us in a little pocket as the big green thing closes in threateningly.
Bad form to begin with “So” or “Well” or to tuck “you know” repetitively in the middle of conversation, but, you know, I endlessly write pointless paragraphs of, you know, like nonsense to post on this ridiculous blog every morning. Going back to look, I'm appalled, I tire of watching the fingers dance and of observing my decline like Calvin & Hobbes’ grotesque snow man melting down. I'm certain of nothing except that before it’s over these cute little dancing fingers will put me in the nut house. Give it up, man, but no, I’m, like, you know, depending on the mental exercise to, you know, stave off Linda's calling the paddy wagon, nomesain?
Bad form to begin with “So” or “Well” or to tuck “you know” repetitively in the middle of conversation, but, you know, I endlessly write pointless paragraphs of, you know, like nonsense to post on this ridiculous blog every morning. Going back to look, I'm appalled, I tire of watching the fingers dance and of observing my decline like Calvin & Hobbes’ grotesque snow man melting down. I'm certain of nothing except that before it’s over these cute little dancing fingers will put me in the nut house. Give it up, man, but no, I’m, like, you know, depending on the mental exercise to, you know, stave off Linda's calling the paddy wagon, nomesain?
The church prescribes an interesting Collect for today:
Proper 27 Sunday closest to November 9
O God, whose blessed Son came into the world that he might destroy the works of the devil and make us children of God and heirs of eternal life: Grant that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves as he is pure; that when he comes again with power and great glory, we may be made like him in his eternal and glorious kingdom; where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
We have no say about each Sunday’s Collect for the Day, and an irritable sort, I like to pick a bone with it, especially and most often with the theological assertion that inevitably shows up in the first sentence, the address to God. At eighty years old, I couldn’t care less who disagees with me on this or anything else, but/and I don’t agree with the collect’s theology that Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil. Or if he did, he failed, because the devil as I know him is prospering and his works abound. In my country he’s the face of every citizen who, as Pope Francis said, always claims exclusively his own rights, without at the same time caring for the good of others, of everyone. It seems the selfish damnation of almost every human. Here too, but especially abroad, the devil is the face and being of every subhuman dredge who would hurt or kill innocent people for sheer hatred, especially political hatred but above and beyond all for hatred from religious certainty, a satanic perversity. So not only failing to destroy the works of the devil, the world so abounds with satan's evil that one nearly despairs of life itself. So this Collect, composed for the 1662 BCP, that seemed pious in its day, and still in passing, on pause seems oblivious and glib if not downright irrelevant.
Further, in retrospect of two thousand years of tarrying, the part about the Second Coming, appointed because we are nearing Advent, also gives me pause. But I do not choose to go there this morning. Advent may be the time.
Rector away today, also my Sunday School sidekick, handing me an uncommonly busy morning. Though still medium rare, the sermon is fair enough, I’ll print it later this afternoon. Adult Sunday School class threatens to be as bawdy as the lessons it’s based on, come and see.
And don’t call me later, I'm turning off my phone and in place of lunch having a large glass of red and a long winter's nap.
Come to think of it, Enriching Our Worship does give us optional collects. They are permissible "During the season after the Epiphany and the season after Pentecost (except the First Sunday after the Epiphany, the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, Trinity Sunday, and the Last Sunday after Pentecost, i.e., Proper 29) ... instead of the appointed Collect of the Day."
For all this, I know the world is right as college football season moves along, about three games left for everyone to play, Florida and Michigan are out of the pre-season cellar, Alabama is back to looking like a champ, and the FSU Seminoles are no longer the New York Yankees of CFB. Knock wood, but Thanksgiving weekend doesn't look quite so scary this year.
Rector away today, also my Sunday School sidekick, handing me an uncommonly busy morning. Though still medium rare, the sermon is fair enough, I’ll print it later this afternoon. Adult Sunday School class threatens to be as bawdy as the lessons it’s based on, come and see.
And don’t call me later, I'm turning off my phone and in place of lunch having a large glass of red and a long winter's nap.
Come to think of it, Enriching Our Worship does give us optional collects. They are permissible "During the season after the Epiphany and the season after Pentecost (except the First Sunday after the Epiphany, the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, Trinity Sunday, and the Last Sunday after Pentecost, i.e., Proper 29) ... instead of the appointed Collect of the Day."
For all this, I know the world is right as college football season moves along, about three games left for everyone to play, Florida and Michigan are out of the pre-season cellar, Alabama is back to looking like a champ, and the FSU Seminoles are no longer the New York Yankees of CFB. Knock wood, but Thanksgiving weekend doesn't look quite so scary this year.