The Feast of Saint Simon and Saint Jude (and Pray For Hallie)
Made a Big Move this morning by actually sitting in the same pew as Simon fka Baby Jesus fka Hometown Boy (let's face it, he looks like a Simon.) He was alone once again and I could not help but notice that he had a small knapsack leaning by his feet. For whatever reason, that is a clue that the young adults have a monthly brunch scheduled.
It was in the middle of the Epistle reading and the church was pretty full. I didn't see Frank Lee until after I had sat down. It would have been fun trying to sing some of the Gospel hymns favored by our Choirmaster on this occasion to celebrate a saint long associated with St. Michael's past, with someone who is not easily embarrassed, but, Simon and I did our quiet best. If I listened carefully, I could hear a faint baritone coming from Simon's direction.
In the twelve or thirteen years that I've known her, this is the first time that I can recall The Rector publicly excusing herself from attendance due to illness. The Assistant Rector made it sound like she had a cold, but I find it hard to believe anything less than a full-blown flu attack would have kept her from making an appearance at church.
In view of the news on the cable network this morning, it even occurred to me that The Rector's absence might be explained by an abundance of caution or even as a precaution. I thanked G-d when I arrived home safely, some three hours later, that I had traveled safely to a free and independent house of worship, largely free from fear, but, surely not taken for granted anymore.
At the end of service, while talking to Pale Male, we noticed Hallie, one of the last of The Muses and walked over to speak with her. She had just come back from delivering the eulogy for a first cousin. Such a tender age for that kind of rite-of-passage. She allowed herself to cry gently into my shoulder as I hugged her.
It was in the middle of the Epistle reading and the church was pretty full. I didn't see Frank Lee until after I had sat down. It would have been fun trying to sing some of the Gospel hymns favored by our Choirmaster on this occasion to celebrate a saint long associated with St. Michael's past, with someone who is not easily embarrassed, but, Simon and I did our quiet best. If I listened carefully, I could hear a faint baritone coming from Simon's direction.
In the twelve or thirteen years that I've known her, this is the first time that I can recall The Rector publicly excusing herself from attendance due to illness. The Assistant Rector made it sound like she had a cold, but I find it hard to believe anything less than a full-blown flu attack would have kept her from making an appearance at church.
In view of the news on the cable network this morning, it even occurred to me that The Rector's absence might be explained by an abundance of caution or even as a precaution. I thanked G-d when I arrived home safely, some three hours later, that I had traveled safely to a free and independent house of worship, largely free from fear, but, surely not taken for granted anymore.
At the end of service, while talking to Pale Male, we noticed Hallie, one of the last of The Muses and walked over to speak with her. She had just come back from delivering the eulogy for a first cousin. Such a tender age for that kind of rite-of-passage. She allowed herself to cry gently into my shoulder as I hugged her.