to guard the unchanging

We have changed, the Episcopal Church has changed and me with it thank God, and is changing. In my lifetime, America has changed, again me with it thank God, in ways mostly for the better, I suppose, except for time, ravages of the calendar. PCNH Sunday paper's been inserting front pages from issues of decades ago, but within my lifetime and memory. One recent was Wednesday, May 8, 1940, news of developing war in Europe and of local elections. One article was captioned “Boy Aged 16 To Die On Gallows.” It was in Idaho. Hiding in waiting, he shot a 15 year old schoolmate, concluding by going up to the groaning boy and finishing him off with a shot to the head. First degree murder. Hanging, the jury said.

Wondering whether the execution had been carried out, I searched the news. His sentence was commuted to life in prison, an article said; the “slight, bespectacled youth,” after a year in prison had put on weight and, hoping eventually to win release, postponed his study of law in favor of a shoemaking apprenticeship. No comment, not going there. I found no record of his release from prison in Idaho, but did find his obituary (1924-2007) and his grave in Arizona.

Many things have changed over the years, including the, today, unthinkable hanging of a 16 year old child. People’s certainties change, don’t they, and what's acceptable in civilized society changes. In 1950 my father and several other men from St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church went to Jacksonville for the annual diocesan convention, yes I remember that my father drove them in a metallic brown 1950 Dodge Coronet club coupe that

he borrowed from Karl Wiselogel of W&W Motors for the trip. At that time, women were ineligible for many things including parish vestry, layreader, acolyte, ordination, delegate to diocesan convention. Any Episcopalian who divorced and remarried was excommunicated from receiving Holy Communion. A black boy dating a white girl would not unlikely have provoked a lynching. There was no such word as “gay” except to describe a happy event. Cove Elementary, Bay High, and Panama Grammar only schooled white students, black students went to Rosenwald, first through 12th grades. I remember the water fountain in McCrory’s 5 & 10 posted “Whites Only.” And the side entrance at the Ritz Theatre for "colored". UFlorida and FSU were all white, black students went to Florida A&M. But we were certain that this was right. And it was the law. All of it. I've learned a lot.

Perhaps the most important thing I've learned in life is to be certain of nothing except what C. S. Lewis called the Tao, by which he appropriates a Chinese term to mean common, ordinary, universally accepted attitudes, principles and actions of human decency. 

Within the Tao, as Lewis says, things can change, views shift, certainties be shaken. I would have to think a long time before returning to the era of my childhood when society could hang a 16 year old child and it was unthinkable that a black child might go to school with me. A long time? I don’t think I could think that long. What worries me now is what I think this morning that in another eighty years I will be ashamed of having thought.

And having read the Rev. Mike Angell’s blogpost stating correctly how the Anglican Communion works, facts which should have been a surprise to no one — but an excellent refresher because in my disgust at the Primates' announcement I’d forgotten, I’m still not sure about the company we keep. An introvert at heart and personality, I've never wanted to be where I was unwelcome, whether in school, society, business, love, or church. I'd rather hurt than be where I was not wanted. And I didn’t and don’t like Archbishop Justin’s slick allusion to “consequences” for those who go outside the boundaries. What I do like is this article from The Guardian http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jan/15/the-guardian-view-on-the-anglican-communion-archbishop-welbys-holy-smoke-and-mirrors  

Most of all, as not especially a “creedal” Christian and as one who may clear his throat saying the Nicene Creed, I prefer the Baptismal Covenant of the Apostles Creed in which we promise, with God’s help, to, because of what we profess to believe, respect the dignity of every human being. To continue in present company will ongoingly diminish some among us, rob them of, disrespect their dignity. 

No matter, I suppose. In three years those who hate us will have departed for their own Conference, already underway as a shadow communion of majority Anglicans who are quite certain with their lofty slogan "... to guard the unchanging ...". So as Bishop Barbara Harris once said, “Goodbye. Go.”  

Musings of an octogenarian who's not much bothered about others’ opinions of my opinions.

Bit of excitement Sunday afternoon just after four o'clock. Guadalupe, 326' x 55', leaving port with containers, suddenly roared all back full just off our porch, and ground to halt, full stop, sea water churning at her stern. Puff of black smoke.

 Sat there a bit, I'm thinking she's aground. Vessel Schedule says 18' draft, and the bar jutting out from Courtney Point is only 10', 12', 13' deep. She swings stern around so her bow is facing us, crosswise in the channel. Seems to break loose, if she was in fact aground, straightens back up, 

resumes her voyage to Progresso. She'll return in a week or so. Comes every few days.

x
x
x
x
x
x


Extraordinary sunset last evening from 100 Cherry Street, Cove Condominiums. Thanks, Peggy!!

BTW, there is no unchanging. 

And a Christian cannot want liberty, freedom for her/himself and not for everyone else. MLK Day seems apt to contemplate this.

Thos+