July 30, 2019 The escalation of racialized rhetoric from the President of the United States has evoked responses from all sides of the political spectrum. On one side, African American leaders have led the way in rightfully expressing outrage. On the other, those aligned with the President seek to downplay the racial overtones of his attacks, or remain silent. As faith leaders who serve at Washington National Cathedral ¬– the sacred space where America gathers at moments of national significance – we feel compelled to ask: After two years of President Trump’s words and actions, when will Americans have enough? As Americans, we have had such moments before, and as a people we have acted. Events of the last week call to mind a similarly dark period in our history: “Until this moment, Senator, I think I never really gauged your cruelty or your recklessness. … You have done enough. Have you no sense of decency?” That was U.S. Army attorney Joseph Welch on June 9, 1954, when

The lectionary, our Bible lessons reading list, for the summer and long season after Pentecost of Year C, has us reading from the Old Testament prophets, currently two Sundays in Hosea, last Sunday July 28 and upcoming Sunday August 4. Hosea makes for interesting discussion in the Bible study session that most often, not always but usually, is our adult Sunday school hour. Indeed, we touched last Sunday on the Hosea verse that kicks off our first reading for next Sunday: When Israel was a child I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. (Hosea 11:1) Hosea is one of the four "eighth century prophets of doom", Isaiah, Hosea, Amos and Micah, who prophesied the fall of Israel the northern kingdom (Amos and Hosea) to the Assyrian Empire and the fall of Judah the southern kingdom (Micah and Israel) to the Babylonian Empire; prophecies that indeed came true. Speaking in the name of God, the prophet Hosea is especially concerned with the degradation of religion from faith

Luke 11:1-13  Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples." He said to them, "When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial." And he said to them, "Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, `Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.' And he answers from within, `Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.' I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

7H porch is loaded with stuff, boxes and porch furniture and some furniture and things we saved from Malinda's house after the storm. There's a lot can be done to neaten that space so more boxes can be moved out there. Unless blowing from the south, the porch is relatively shielded from rain now that scaffolding covers the entire Bay side of Harbour Village, and it'll be helpful to clear boxes from rooms to make reclaiming them more encouraging.  No matter what, it's exhausting work for two octogenarians, work rest work rest work rest work &c, but it's work rest that only we two can do to set up household again, and it'll take as long as it takes. The only help I need really bad is getting a new $800 futon-sofa, that in reconfiguring we've decided we don't want, out of 7H and to my office at the church, where it can either become a fixture or be offered free to taker. That's not a hint, it's just the most basic fact at this point; and

At the osprey nest I'm watching and loving, the two chicks are flying around and having fun. They seem to consider themselves too old to sleep in the nest, now roosting on the platform the nest sits on. This was live when I first checked in with them this morning: Don't know at what point they start diving for fish, and I suppose they are driven by instinct and don't need teaching. But apparently they will leave on migration to South or Central America late September or so.  The garage is closed at Harbour Village, so folks are parking on the marina and walking; what with walking back and forth between car and 7H several times during the day, giving me the amount of exercise I want but only get when compelled as 7H is the farthest point east and south, over a quarter mile each way.  Still at Breakfast Point, PCB, but 7H is coming along. Floor finished, workers were there yesterday doing plumbing and helping put heavy furniture back in place. We have way too much

Brilliant sunset as we were leaving church last evening, the cellphone camera failed to capture the colors, but I wanted to get a shot showing Nature's continuing determination to survive in the trees' still peculiar clumps of leaves growing every possible place along branches that remain instead of naturally at the ends of branches that because of the hurricane are no longer there.  Evening Prayer Rite One, pizza, and then the feature of the evening: slide presentation with pictures the folks took on the Holy Land trip from which they just returned. The pictures were great, but the greatest thing was watching the travelers, nearly all of whom were there, their enthusiasm, laughter, talk and conversation as they relived the joy and experience of the trip. And from traveling and living together they seemed to have formed a close group that I hope will continue to bring them pleasure and happy memories. It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. I don't need to have gone:

Why do I do this? Sometimes because of being pressed into it. Moretimes because I need to say something that can only be said by moving the fingers, though in the space that is both time and distance between brain and fingers, something slips, is lost. As with the pulpit, in the space between lips and printed, or blogged, page, something goes missing. Not that fault must be set, it's natural, workings of Nature. My home, 7H, that honestly I expected never again to inhabit, is coming back together, slowly but nevertheless. Nearly a year now, instead of months, it may be weeks. Or instead of weeks, maybe days. Where never becomes maybe. It may be better, 7H may be better, and my school may be better, and in someone else's lifetime my town may be better; but Nature does not let the clock be reset to zero, to drive under the canopy of trees, or the Cove School windows be those I worked on with Bill twenty years ago. Or my trust in Nature return.  How to get the best of Natu

Mary fascinates me, especially her portrayal in Jesus Christ, Superstar, singing "I don't know how to love him" with lines "he's just a man" and concluding "I want him so, I love him so". This morning, on her day, trying to find something commonly human, as in fact she would have been, without a halo and not gazing piously at the sky but maybe adoringly at Jesus, I scrolled through the Web Gallery of Art and found depictions of her varying from pious to almost lurid. In the painting above, eg, she seems to be wearing nothing but hair, and there's that jar of perfumed ointment, placing her biblically as the woman at Luke 7:36-50.  My favorite is on the cover of Bruce Chilton's biography of her. I'll have to go back to the gallery and identify that one. Chilton's a chaired professor at Bard College and an Episcopal priest, and after reading, also this morning, a HuffPost article by him, I'm tempted to trust him and

The four evangelists, each with a story to tell about Jesus, each with a particular audience (Luke's audience is Theophilus, who seems to have engaged Luke to write), each has heard different stories, and with different details, and each arranges the stories in order that seems to him most logical and best to convey his overall proclamation; and one of the things I most enjoy in Bible study, including with our group in the Adult Sunday School class, is exploring various differences among the gospels and their evangelists.  Just so this morning. We probably most often think of Mary and Martha in connection with Lazarus, and with Jesus being anointed with oil, but those things happen differently in each gospel. In this morning's gospel story, Mary and Martha are not living just outside Jerusalem, and there is no brother Lazarus, and Jesus has just set out on his long walk from Galilee to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51). And there is no anointing Jesus with ointment or Judas Iscariot

Checking out various Bible readings for tomorrow, I might as well look at the psalms nominated to respond to the lectionary's prescribed OT texts.  From Track 2, the one we're not reading is the incomparable Psalm 15, in my growing up years set in my memory for life from the Coverdale Psalter in our Book of Common Prayer, "Lord, who shall dwell in thy tabernacle, or who shall rest upon thy holy hill?"  But the other one, for Track 1, the response to the Amos prophecy, Psalm 52 is damning and bitter enough to pass not for a chant in worship but for prophecy itself; indeed for modern day response in the nature of prophetic protest against life as we are living it, and 'nuff said: Psalm 52  Quid gloriaris? 1  Y ou tyrant, why do you boast of wickedness * against the godly all day long? 2 You plot ruin; your tongue is like a sharpened razor, * O worker of deception. 3 You love evil more than good * and lying more than speaking the truth. 4 You