Presenting, John The Baptist!
Every year at about this time, I wake up and realize that it is no longer the Chistmas season. This year, it was earlier in the week when leaving my building I glanced over my shoulder and realized that the tree and all the poinsettas had been removed from the lobby. That afternoon, I returned home and dismantled my electric train set and put the pieces back into their box for another year.
The same thing happened at church yesterday and our assisting priest gave it some lectionary background during his homily. This Sunday, he explained, is the point in the church calendar where the readings pivot from celebrating Jesus' birth to celebrating his baptism at the fairly old age of 32. It's a little jarring.
Speaking of rapid turns of life's passages, this was the weekend of John Chambers' wedding, some five years after the tragic death of his first wife, Jean. It took place at St. Michael's and the only reason I was aware of it was the fact that it upset my rotation on the Altar Guild as special occasions like weddings and funerals make it all but impossible to set up for the eucharist before Saturday night when getting back into the church is a pain in the ass.
I have the bruises to prove it.
These are the occasions when Juanita is in her full glory. She generously offers to walk over before the gates slam shut and do most of the work herself, finishing up everything Sunday morning before the 10:00 service. It is a great favor to those of us who live an hour away from church - as she would be the first to remind you. And, if you have somehow failed to fully give her the credit she deserves, she makes sure to hover around during clean-up, basically supervising us during what is usually a supervisor-less hour or so before Coffee Hour - and incidentally making it all but impossible to talk about her behind her back.
And, she has been a topic of conversation for about two or three months now. Something about some lipstick-stained cloth napkins (technically, we call them "purificators") ticked her off and got her into a passive-agressive contest of wills with her co-leader, Marilyn. The two of them have been pleading their side of the case to whoever will listen.
Each one is waiting for the other to simply quietly disappear. The problem is that they both need each other. Marilyn is up to her elbows (sometimes literally) with Saturday Kitchen responsibilities and doesn't really have the time to supervise newcomers to The Guild the way she could only a few short years ago when I was one of her last trainees. Juanita, OTOH, bless her heart, is punctual and always willing to lend a helping hand - but, is a lousy mentor. She doesn't have a knack for explaining things. At least, not economically. Colette reports that she is near the breaking point. Why? I suspect, if it's anything like my experience with the unblessed "reserve" wafers, it's because, if you ask her a question, she has to go back to the beginning of a prepared speech which can last upwards of 45 minutes. In other words, she has learned everything by rote memory and expects you to learn it the same way. No one does that.
I ended the afternoon quietly disappearing myself, after Juanita asked whether I had removed a slightly different container of gluten-free reserve wafers from the high altar and placed them on the credence table for Intersection. I hadn't. It was a slightly different instruction from the one we had been following for almost the past year. Why the change? I didn't dare ask. I just grabbed my coat and followed it on my way out.
The same thing happened at church yesterday and our assisting priest gave it some lectionary background during his homily. This Sunday, he explained, is the point in the church calendar where the readings pivot from celebrating Jesus' birth to celebrating his baptism at the fairly old age of 32. It's a little jarring.
Speaking of rapid turns of life's passages, this was the weekend of John Chambers' wedding, some five years after the tragic death of his first wife, Jean. It took place at St. Michael's and the only reason I was aware of it was the fact that it upset my rotation on the Altar Guild as special occasions like weddings and funerals make it all but impossible to set up for the eucharist before Saturday night when getting back into the church is a pain in the ass.
I have the bruises to prove it.
These are the occasions when Juanita is in her full glory. She generously offers to walk over before the gates slam shut and do most of the work herself, finishing up everything Sunday morning before the 10:00 service. It is a great favor to those of us who live an hour away from church - as she would be the first to remind you. And, if you have somehow failed to fully give her the credit she deserves, she makes sure to hover around during clean-up, basically supervising us during what is usually a supervisor-less hour or so before Coffee Hour - and incidentally making it all but impossible to talk about her behind her back.
And, she has been a topic of conversation for about two or three months now. Something about some lipstick-stained cloth napkins (technically, we call them "purificators") ticked her off and got her into a passive-agressive contest of wills with her co-leader, Marilyn. The two of them have been pleading their side of the case to whoever will listen.
Each one is waiting for the other to simply quietly disappear. The problem is that they both need each other. Marilyn is up to her elbows (sometimes literally) with Saturday Kitchen responsibilities and doesn't really have the time to supervise newcomers to The Guild the way she could only a few short years ago when I was one of her last trainees. Juanita, OTOH, bless her heart, is punctual and always willing to lend a helping hand - but, is a lousy mentor. She doesn't have a knack for explaining things. At least, not economically. Colette reports that she is near the breaking point. Why? I suspect, if it's anything like my experience with the unblessed "reserve" wafers, it's because, if you ask her a question, she has to go back to the beginning of a prepared speech which can last upwards of 45 minutes. In other words, she has learned everything by rote memory and expects you to learn it the same way. No one does that.
I ended the afternoon quietly disappearing myself, after Juanita asked whether I had removed a slightly different container of gluten-free reserve wafers from the high altar and placed them on the credence table for Intersection. I hadn't. It was a slightly different instruction from the one we had been following for almost the past year. Why the change? I didn't dare ask. I just grabbed my coat and followed it on my way out.