Third Sunday of Easter, 2019
Yesterday was a gray and drizzly day. Church was not crowded and was missing some key people, including many women who, according to my undersanding, were away on a retreat. Again, as with the last time The Rector was away, I spotted Frontpage in front of the Rectory, walking the dog.
Once inside the main sanctuary, I selected the aisle seat of a long pew anchored on the other end by Simon. As there were plenty of empty seats throughout the church, no one bothered filing in the seats that remained between us. It was as if we were on opposite ends of a see-saw.
I've been re-evaluating my views about Simon. I've realized how ridiculous my conclusion that he might be Amish must be. I now recall that he and The Assistant Rector attended an Episcopal sponsored high school - so, being Amish is sort of out of the question. I still think his roots in Halifax County are rather shallow. And, his diffident air is probably best explained by the fact that 1) He is a typical Northern Protestant, and, 2) He is a young adult in a committed relationship. If recent history is any indication, there just isn't any extra psychic energy to spare when you are that young and your partner doesn't share the same degree of dedication to community life - any community's community life.
It's like making friends with a cat. The trick is to keep your distance, but, also continue to occupy your end of the couch. Eventually, they will start rubbing up against you.
The sermon was delivered by The Deacon and borrowed heavily from the Acts of the Apostles. I loved his apocryphal letter addressed to Jesus from a corporate headhunter assessing the employabillity of each of them. Just about the only Disciple who wasn't judged a total failure was Judas!
Coffee Hour went fast. Paradise was not there, so the Bagginses had the Elders Table to themselves. Bilbo was his amiable self, but, the years are catching up. He no longer drives to church, but, must wait for an accessi-ride like a whole lot of other folks. It makes me a little more sympathetic toward his daughter. She is in a very familiar place, caught between two care-giving bookends, one representing her (apparently) "special needs" offspring and the other by an elderly surviving parent.
Got back home in time for my sister-in-law's birthday party. We watched a Charlie Chan movie (one of the few without painful racial stereotypes masquerading as humor.) The only stumble (well, actually there were two) was Gladys' surprise announcement as we sat down to dinner that she couldn't eat fried chicken. By now, I should be used to Gladys' peculiar diet restrictions (she's also allergic to turkey), but, this one caught us all off guard.
The other stumble was the fact that for the time being, at least until my coop completes the repairs to our parking lot, I no longer have an operational parking permit. The old one has been replaced by a new one that requires everyone's car t be registered with security. This is partly the result of the prior head of security being caught selling vacant spaces to non-coop dwellers. But, the impact on me is that without a car, I have no way of gaining a new permit. And, without a new permit I have no way of securing my space (which ostensibly I still own as an appurtenance to my deed) for guests - like my brother and his wife.
Hopefully, this will all get sorted out once everyone gets their own parking spaces back after the repairs are completed as contemplated, by September.
Once inside the main sanctuary, I selected the aisle seat of a long pew anchored on the other end by Simon. As there were plenty of empty seats throughout the church, no one bothered filing in the seats that remained between us. It was as if we were on opposite ends of a see-saw.
I've been re-evaluating my views about Simon. I've realized how ridiculous my conclusion that he might be Amish must be. I now recall that he and The Assistant Rector attended an Episcopal sponsored high school - so, being Amish is sort of out of the question. I still think his roots in Halifax County are rather shallow. And, his diffident air is probably best explained by the fact that 1) He is a typical Northern Protestant, and, 2) He is a young adult in a committed relationship. If recent history is any indication, there just isn't any extra psychic energy to spare when you are that young and your partner doesn't share the same degree of dedication to community life - any community's community life.
It's like making friends with a cat. The trick is to keep your distance, but, also continue to occupy your end of the couch. Eventually, they will start rubbing up against you.
The sermon was delivered by The Deacon and borrowed heavily from the Acts of the Apostles. I loved his apocryphal letter addressed to Jesus from a corporate headhunter assessing the employabillity of each of them. Just about the only Disciple who wasn't judged a total failure was Judas!
Coffee Hour went fast. Paradise was not there, so the Bagginses had the Elders Table to themselves. Bilbo was his amiable self, but, the years are catching up. He no longer drives to church, but, must wait for an accessi-ride like a whole lot of other folks. It makes me a little more sympathetic toward his daughter. She is in a very familiar place, caught between two care-giving bookends, one representing her (apparently) "special needs" offspring and the other by an elderly surviving parent.
Got back home in time for my sister-in-law's birthday party. We watched a Charlie Chan movie (one of the few without painful racial stereotypes masquerading as humor.) The only stumble (well, actually there were two) was Gladys' surprise announcement as we sat down to dinner that she couldn't eat fried chicken. By now, I should be used to Gladys' peculiar diet restrictions (she's also allergic to turkey), but, this one caught us all off guard.
The other stumble was the fact that for the time being, at least until my coop completes the repairs to our parking lot, I no longer have an operational parking permit. The old one has been replaced by a new one that requires everyone's car t be registered with security. This is partly the result of the prior head of security being caught selling vacant spaces to non-coop dwellers. But, the impact on me is that without a car, I have no way of gaining a new permit. And, without a new permit I have no way of securing my space (which ostensibly I still own as an appurtenance to my deed) for guests - like my brother and his wife.
Hopefully, this will all get sorted out once everyone gets their own parking spaces back after the repairs are completed as contemplated, by September.