Second Sunday of Lent, 2012
the first thing I noticede about Mass last week was that the order of worship was printed on smaller paper; it had gone from eight and half by eleven to the size of a large Christmas card in less than a week. I think it's all a part of a "go green" initiative of some sort. And, it makes sense. After nearly twenty years as a parishioner, you'd think I'd know the words to the Nicene Creed by now.
I walked in as the Avery child was reading the Epistle. It was a long verse from Romans 4:13-25. She did a good job.
I don't remember much about the sermon; I know The Cross was mentioned several times. It was in keeping with the overall Lenten message of forebearance, sacrifice and self-awareness. Coming as it did after a roller-coaster week in Mommyland, it didn't need much buttressing.
The coffee and tea urns at Coffee Hour are on opposit ends of the serving table these days and I think someone must have decided it would make the lines shorter. Unfortunately, the cups are right in the middle of the table, in-between the urns, which means, both lines have to pivot back and forth between getting a cup and then going back to their spigot of choice. I encountered Hope, Jr. in the middle of doing this and couldn't help teasing him about the necessity of keeping awake during Sunday School. I think if he'd been any less respectful of his elders, he'd have told me to f/o.
The forum that followed Coffee Hour was a revelation (no the one in the New Testament, but, generically). It was all about John Donne who up until then was only familiar to me as the poet Hemingway quotes in the prelude to "For Whom the Bell Tolls". It turns out he was a Catholic priest dduring the Elizabethan era and much of his poetry plays off this tension that exists between the spirit and the flesh. I think it made everyone want ot go out immediately and buy a book of his poems.
After the forum, I hung out with Jem and Sam-Peter, with the expectation that John S. would soon join us -- which he did. Arianna was there too. In fact, I noticed that just about everyone still in church at that hour was a Sunday School teacher. I was less intimidated than I was the week before, or rather, they seemed less inclined to shoo me away while they discussed the kids in thier class. Apparently, Bill Fields has some advocates among the children's choir and they are keeping the issue of his stalled same-sex, church sanctioned, marraige ceremony stoked. It also doesn't hurt that he has volunteered to be the set designer for their musical play based on "Alice in Wonderland".
I'm not sure what my agenda was. I think it was just happy to be in John's gravitational pull for a bit. After about twwenty minutes, the group broke up and people started to move toward the reception desk outside. On the way, John and I bumped into (almost literally) Marilyn again. I was almost glad to see her (even though she is a merciless tease) because that would have meant even more contact time with John. But, she had an appointment and couldn't be baited into another argument about church sacraments (she thinks they're used in order to keep parishioners meek.)
I walked in as the Avery child was reading the Epistle. It was a long verse from Romans 4:13-25. She did a good job.
I don't remember much about the sermon; I know The Cross was mentioned several times. It was in keeping with the overall Lenten message of forebearance, sacrifice and self-awareness. Coming as it did after a roller-coaster week in Mommyland, it didn't need much buttressing.
The coffee and tea urns at Coffee Hour are on opposit ends of the serving table these days and I think someone must have decided it would make the lines shorter. Unfortunately, the cups are right in the middle of the table, in-between the urns, which means, both lines have to pivot back and forth between getting a cup and then going back to their spigot of choice. I encountered Hope, Jr. in the middle of doing this and couldn't help teasing him about the necessity of keeping awake during Sunday School. I think if he'd been any less respectful of his elders, he'd have told me to f/o.
The forum that followed Coffee Hour was a revelation (no the one in the New Testament, but, generically). It was all about John Donne who up until then was only familiar to me as the poet Hemingway quotes in the prelude to "For Whom the Bell Tolls". It turns out he was a Catholic priest dduring the Elizabethan era and much of his poetry plays off this tension that exists between the spirit and the flesh. I think it made everyone want ot go out immediately and buy a book of his poems.
After the forum, I hung out with Jem and Sam-Peter, with the expectation that John S. would soon join us -- which he did. Arianna was there too. In fact, I noticed that just about everyone still in church at that hour was a Sunday School teacher. I was less intimidated than I was the week before, or rather, they seemed less inclined to shoo me away while they discussed the kids in thier class. Apparently, Bill Fields has some advocates among the children's choir and they are keeping the issue of his stalled same-sex, church sanctioned, marraige ceremony stoked. It also doesn't hurt that he has volunteered to be the set designer for their musical play based on "Alice in Wonderland".
I'm not sure what my agenda was. I think it was just happy to be in John's gravitational pull for a bit. After about twwenty minutes, the group broke up and people started to move toward the reception desk outside. On the way, John and I bumped into (almost literally) Marilyn again. I was almost glad to see her (even though she is a merciless tease) because that would have meant even more contact time with John. But, she had an appointment and couldn't be baited into another argument about church sacraments (she thinks they're used in order to keep parishioners meek.)