The Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost
Sunday began with the all sorts of text messages and strangled answering machine messages regarding Mom health. She's in a bad way and would require having most of her left leg amputated on Monday afternoon. It all flared up quite suddenly and quickly last Tuesday with a call from Sis that the nursing home doctor had discovered some suspicious looking spots on the toes of one foot. The spots quickly grew until by Thursday they had massed into a general discoloration of most of her foot and leg. They diagnosed it as a precursor to gangrene, caused by the cessation of circulation to that part of her body.
I went to morning service for the first time in a good while. I wanted to show my face and let people know I haven't left the church. I also wanted to check in with Frank Lee. If I'm going to run for Vestry the first thing I'd better verify is whether St. Michael's still has me listed as a member. I sat next to Richard and suddenly realized I had formed the end of a kind of murderer's row of all the gay men in St. Michael's (who weren't in the Choir): Me, Richard, Fr. Pennellton, and Paradise all sitting together. The person missing was Lawrence. I meant to find out how he's doing.
The Choir came down in single file during The Peace. I thought it was specifically to exchange The Peace with everyone and soon Richard and I were giving out handshakes as though we were on a receiving line. Bing beamed brightly as he said, "Peace, my brother." and continued on. It turns out they were only processing to a spot in front of the piano for their next number. But, maybe they should do that every Sunday and exchange The Peace?
Meanwhile, Crosby was done with the pre-schoolers and sat across the way. Later, when I sat out the Eucharist (it's still hard for this raised Baptist to take more than one Communion a day) he gave me a warm smile from the his end of the supplicants line.
I stayed for the Forum even though I had intended to swing by the hospital on my way home. The topic had something to do with race and it felt worth my while to poke my head in. I said a few things. Not sure whether it won any friends.
I went to morning service for the first time in a good while. I wanted to show my face and let people know I haven't left the church. I also wanted to check in with Frank Lee. If I'm going to run for Vestry the first thing I'd better verify is whether St. Michael's still has me listed as a member. I sat next to Richard and suddenly realized I had formed the end of a kind of murderer's row of all the gay men in St. Michael's (who weren't in the Choir): Me, Richard, Fr. Pennellton, and Paradise all sitting together. The person missing was Lawrence. I meant to find out how he's doing.
The Choir came down in single file during The Peace. I thought it was specifically to exchange The Peace with everyone and soon Richard and I were giving out handshakes as though we were on a receiving line. Bing beamed brightly as he said, "Peace, my brother." and continued on. It turns out they were only processing to a spot in front of the piano for their next number. But, maybe they should do that every Sunday and exchange The Peace?
Meanwhile, Crosby was done with the pre-schoolers and sat across the way. Later, when I sat out the Eucharist (it's still hard for this raised Baptist to take more than one Communion a day) he gave me a warm smile from the his end of the supplicants line.
I stayed for the Forum even though I had intended to swing by the hospital on my way home. The topic had something to do with race and it felt worth my while to poke my head in. I said a few things. Not sure whether it won any friends.