What this morning, then? Deliberately, as is my want, procrastinating a couple of tasks by doing something less important but fun instead: reading news online, news articles.  A Navy SEAL confounding Navy prosecutors by confessing on the witness stand under oath, that he, not the man charged, killed the ISIS teen.  Trump calls back a tit-for-tat strike against Iran (for shooting down our drone) after the strike is already underway.  An article analyzing the Pompeo Bolton Trump relationship and interactions especially vis a vis Iran.  An article about Supreme Court justices, the views, approaches and philosophies of each justice on honoring and overturning long established precedent and the factors each justice considers, including implications and likely ramifications thereof.  An article about automobile branding, with back and forth about why GM should or should not discontinue their GMC brand (as they did Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Saturn,...

Celebrating the Life of Archie McLemore Thursday, June 20, 2019 Holy Nativity Episcopal Church  Panama City, Florida  Homily I love the gifts I receive from my daughter Tass, who is married to an Englishman, a Britisher. It may be chocolate (or Jeremy’s mother may send die wundervolle Schokolade, incomparable European chocolates from England).  More likely, Tass will give me a book, a book she has read with her book club, and thought of me. A couple of Christmases ago, it was Fredrick Bakman’s A Man Called Ove. Another year, Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See. In both cases I was amazed that she had selected books so intimate with my being and close to my heart; and I asked her, “How did you know I would like this book so much?” And she says, “I know you, Dad!” Not your typical irascible little girl or rebellious teenager (we’ve had those in our family), growing up, Tass was the only perfect child I’ve ever known. And when she denies that, as...

In our adult Sunday School class, when looking at a passage of Scripture, generally but not always from one of the four lectionary readings for the day, it’s not unusual for me to tell the folks and discuss an original word, Hebrew if it’s an Old Testament passage, (and maybe what the Septuagint writers did with it when translating the Hebrew into the koine spoken Greek of the day, and the implications of that and its being brought into Christian scripture and tradition); Greek if the reading we’re looking at is from the New Testament, and the meanings of that key word.  I don’t do it to show off my brilliance in languages, which would be a lie, because I’m just doing what any one of them could do if they were leading the class. My knowledge in those languages is that I’ve done some preparation for today’s class and done whatever research I need to do for the instant situation. So I tell them the word of interest in the original language, and its derivation, uses and possible...

Day before yesterday, a member of our adult Sunday School class showed me a newspaper article saying the Pope approved a change to our English translation of the petition in the Lord’s Prayer, from “lead us not into temptation” to “do not let us fall into temptation”. I agree, although to keep its traditional feeling, I might phrase it “let us not be led into temptation”.  Hardly ever have I gotten through a confirmation class without someone asking the question, raising the issue, “Lead us not into temptation”? What are we saying here? Do we believe our loving God deliberately leads us into temptation? What does this mean, what’s the theology of it? Are we saying God actually tempts us, tests us, tries to trick us? Some divine sting operation?” It’s all valid, the concern, question, challenge is perfectly valid. And so is the literal translation from the Greek, Matthew (6:13a) and Luke (11:4b). It’s not in Mark, indicating, some scholars would say, that it’s from (hypotheti...

Once again, I thought to skip blogging this morning. I have too much to do and to think about. Some to worry about; my mother (who died this date in 2011 and my father died this week in 1993) told me, tried to teach me, not to worry until there was something to worry about, that life is beyond my control, so don't worry.  Not trite as in "don't worry, be happy" but as practical living. It's never worked for me. I'm a worrier, mostly about loved ones. Daughter and family are in England, and to get home they have to get in an airplane and fly across the Atlantic Ocean high above the clouds. Son in Ohio on the long ten-day motorcycle adventure he's almost lifelong wanted to take, and the weather has been disappointing such that he's not taken all the scenic routes he'd planned, and he still has days of it left, miles to go long distance on a motorcycle. A daughter has settled into the aftermath of multiple events of brain trauma, or, corrective, ...

Trinity Sunday: I shall speak to you in the Name of God as we encounter and name God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. You may be seated. With Christmas six months behind us, and Christmas six months ahead us, what I’m going to say is unseasonal and untimely, but at almost 84 and doing as I DWP, I’m going to the Christmas Story anyway; and I trust that, with Ralphie Parker and his Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model air rifle, you will not go home and “shoot your eye out” in frustration that what I tell you is incomprehensible. One thing I look forward to as a Christmas gift, is television’s "A Christmas Story" based on Jean Shepherd’s family anecdotes from his book "In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash". I watch the movie at least twice or three times during its 24-hour marathon every Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I love the time of American life it shows, the immediate post-World-War-Two 1940s (I can date the film even if you cannot, because I...

After soon nine years, I have recently grown to the point that I decided no longer to feel obliged to write and post every single morning without fail, and I gave myself the liberty to decide and choose day by day; and I do skip some days. Though it no longer causes readers to email, text, and ring to make sure I'm still alive as it did early on, skipping is not good where intentional habits are concerned, including mental habits such as the thinking that goes into writing, because eventually the habit will drift off and fade away. I was remembering that this way of habits was the reason in my growing up years, that my parents never let there be a question on Sunday morning, "Well, shall we go to church today?" We just got ready, got in the car, and went to church, no exceptions ever, because the decision was made and permanent. I remember it from the late 1930s. And if there was any grumbling, "Why do we have to go to church?", I never but my sister may have...