Easter: Morning Light "they are like angels and are children of God, children of the resurrection" Though at our church we’re taking advantage of the rubric that says we may push All Saints Day to the following Sunday, here’s the regular gospel for next Sunday, Proper 27C: Luke 20:27-38 Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to Jesus and asked him a question, "Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man's brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; then the second and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. Finally the woman also died. In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her.” Jesus said to them, "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; but those who are considered worthy of

Michigan, Florida, Auburn, PennState, the good news. Flip side, Ohio State over Northwestern, but only 24 - 20. FSU, not going there. Michigan should be ranked over Alabama but no rush and Number One is a  dangerous place to be anyway, as many teams know . Toes and fingers crossed for Thanksgiving weekend, though lots of bridges to cross before we get there, and in CFB any bridge can crumble. Three o’clock in the morning, 70F 70% cool out here on 7H porch. These days begin with glass of hot cools-to-warm lemon water that chills the appetite, then black and dark. Sheer pleasure of life began with coffee and chocolate, but trying to keep weight down without going off frantic, and lemon water seems helping.  Altogether too dark out to see, but someone huge sea predator rushing through the shallows just below 7H breakfasting on something, got to be mullet, in close. Got to be a porpoise or shark. Don't go wading. MLP. Wedding yesterday in my adopted family, and where I cla

Sunset, someone's Time ravaged MLP remnant, & 5 Sailboats What’s bothering me this morning, what’s stirring heart, soul, mind and strength. Little but nevertheless. How the hell did I get to be this age, I was eighteen, somebody switched numbers around on me. Eighteen. Forty. What happened? Lucifer’s work, anyone but self, someone else to blame. And how the hell did I live into the great American republic disintegrating as I watch. The view from 7H is better than the national scene.  We may go vote this morning, IDK, the small decisions of life have been taken from me, I don't decide when we go vote, I only make the big decisions, like “Who or What is God?” And the Divine Adversary, is it that member of the heavenly host who attended those two council meetings in the stage drama that gutted Job, or is it really me after all? IDK. Wanderings of the Saturday morning mind could land me either in the briar patch or struggling to let loose of this TarBaby. I miss MLP.

Here she comes, there she goes, a boat meeting and passing, Campeche Bay 279x41 arriving with containers from Progresso, back out later today with containers for Progresso. Life tentative, ambiguous and ambivalent loving every second at 7H.  No walk in the Cove this morning, Robert is meeting a daughter arriving from Tulsa and a daughter arriving from Berlin, at PC and Tallahassee airports, thence to see Cindy at home in Crawfordville. My heart and soul rips and tears for Robert and those he loves, Cindy released from Shands to home under hospice care, her daddy’s heart breaking. Life tentative. Italian Feast last evening at StThomas with beloved former parishioners. At one and eighty it is possible joyfully to eat too much, and just so, zwei glasses of red and slept until seven o’clock on the dot. Thus, late with blogpost. My joy yesterday, Ray brought L over.  A man can only handle loving so much, daughters, daughter-granddaughter, granddaughters, great-granddaughter

הַמַּשָּׂא֙ Sun’s coming up on Thursday, but mingling the upcoming Sunday reading from the writing prophet Habakkuk with bitter Bart Ehrman’s book God’s Problem carries me back to Wednesday afternoon.  The lectionary framers, whom I will be closed in the sod convinced are idiots, have given us a tiny snippet of this observant prophet who sees things as they are yet faithfully works to rationalize the disturbing Hashem of Theodicy whom Habakkuk accuses of doing “nothing to save those in distress.” Ehrman aside, my own bitter glass (no, pill) is that our designated reading so glosses over the problem, with the first four verses of Habakkuk chapter one melded into the first four verses of Habakkuk chapter two, leaving us in the pew with “hunh? say what? come again” or, more likely, roll on and obliviously suffer the psalm and Second Thessalonians because the hymn and gospel story are what it’s all about, Jesus and Zacchaeus. No. We dishonor and disfavor ourselves reading