And on inauguration day…

I join The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, Episcopal Bishop of New Hampshire in his prayer:

Opening Inaugural Event
Lincoln Memorial, Washington, DC
January 18, 2009

O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…

Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.

Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.

Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.

Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.

Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.

And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.

Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.

Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.

AMEN.

Ave Maria

I’ve always known the hymn, Ave Maria. It seems to crop up on a lot of Christmas albums. I heard it sung at church on various occasions, including just because the soprano wanted to sing it.

This is probably the one we’re all most familiar with. The Schubert:

This is the good part of the blog. This is where I get to piss off Baptists.

I know a lot of Baptists and they are friends and good people. But when it comes to Ave Maria, they are leeches of the worst kind.

You see, I know many Baptists who love Ave Maria. They may have had it sung at their weddings. (Yes, weddings.) They may have had it sung at various church services. (Don’t worry about the time of year; they aren’t liturgical so don’t worry about singing to a certain liturgy.)

And they don’t seem to understand what Ave Maria is.

It is a prayer to the Blessed Virgin.

You know, the Virgin that they kick to the curb unless it’s Christmas and they need a pretty girl to hold the babe?

Yes, that Virgin.

It’s a prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary (aka BVM) which is something the Baptists equate with worshiping idols.

Ooops.

Not only is it a prayer–it’s THE prayer.

Hail Mary, anyone?

But I was as ignorant as any Baptist before I became an Episcopalian and started stumbling across all this Catholic stuff. (Which was cool, because I love Catholic stuff, and as an Episcopalian I get to have it without the Pope and the Magisterium nonsense. See? My day is complete. Now I get to piss off the Catholics, too.)

But Ave Maria was changed for me the night I sat in a darkened cathedral and was surrounded by an a cappella choir singing the Biebl version.

And I wept.

And words that had merely been words before, became prayer and hymn and transcendent.

There are various translations and some are controversial, but it’s very simple.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

I have witnessed death. I have witnessed the death of my grandfather and my father. I have witnessed the deaths of beloved pets. None of this was violent or graphic, for which I’m grateful. But the fact remains, I have witnessed death.

And the idea of Mary praying with us during those hours of death is overwhelmingly powerful and comforting.

So even if I were still a Methodist girl, I’d be embracing Ave Maria and all it stands for, not just as another pretty song.

And the fact that I’m not a Methodist any more, well, I consider that a bonus.

The Biebl Ave Maria:

And one of these days I may actually progress to Hail Holy Queen.

Tomorrow… Hail Mary.

 

 

The First Moon Walk (and more)

One thing I love about being an Episcopalian is our many Feast Days.

Methodists don’t pay attention to this stuff. But I love reading Lesser Feasts and Fasts and seeing the many great people and events that are remembered in prayer and celebration by Episcopalians. Some are the same as those recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, but others are uniquely ours.

Which brings me to today.

Today is a very tres cool anniversary.

But I’m not just talking about, “The Eagle has landed.”

And I’m not just talking about the moon walk.

I’m talking about this:

“Houston, this is Eagle. This is the LM pilot speaking. I would like to request a few moments of silence. I would like to invite each person listening in, whoever or wherever he may be, to contemplate for a moment the events of the last few hours, and to give thanks in his own individual way.

“In the radio blackout, I opened the little plastic packages which contained the bread and the wine. I poured the wine into the chalice our church had given me. In the one-sixth gravity of the moon, the wine slowly curled and gracefully came up the side of the cup. Then I read the Scripture, ‘I am the vine, you are the branches. Whosoever abides in me will bring forth much fruit.’ I had intended to read my communion passage back to earth, but at the last minute Deke Slayton had requested that I not do this. NASA was already embroiled in a legal battle with Madelyn Murray O’Hare, the celebrated opponent of religion, over the Apollo 8 crew reading from Genesis while orbiting the moon at Christmas. I agreed reluctantly…

“Eagle’s metal body creaked. I ate the tiny Host and swallowed the wine. I gave thanks for the intelligence and spirit that had brought two young pilots to the Sea of Tranquility. It was interesting for me to think: the very first liquid ever poured on the moon, and the very first food eaten there, were the communion elements.”

Buzz Aldrin — Astronaut, Author, Episcopalian
July 20, 1969.

And the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven were there.

There has been a movement in the ECUSA to add the Moon Eucharist as a Lesser Feast and I think eventually that will happen. (I actually started writing this entry because I thought it already had. Ooops.)

But — July 20 is already taken, and quite admirably.

Which is another reason I love the ECUSA. Because social justice and history are honored here, and as so many have said before me, “You don’t have to check your brain at the door” to be an Episcopalian.

We still believe in science. (Go ahead. Read it.)

Postscript: You might notice that on this day of all days, there seems to be an absence of anything Harry Potter in my blog. Well, yes. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to attend the midnight madness tonight, but I’m pretty sure I won’t start reading the book until my copy from the UK arrives which means many, many, many people will have finished before I even hold mine in my hands. I am going to attempt to remain unspoiled, which I fear will be very difficult. This means I won’t watch any media for several days and will be very cautious where I surf the ‘nets.

Right now, I’m listening to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince again on audio, which is taking longer than I anticipated as my iPod died and I can only listen when I’m in the room with the computer or can abscond with borrow the Resident Storm Chaser’s iPod. But at least this will keep me occupied as I await the owl from the Royal Mail….

The Heart of Texas

And so, with tears streaming down my face, I stood and raised my hooked fingers though I would be hard pressed to choke out any of the words.

And I wondered, is it truly in good proper Episcopal taste to end a funeral with the University of Texas band playing, “The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You?”

And I knew the answer was, of course.

If Lady Bird planned it, how could it be anything else?

May you rest in peace and rise in glory…

When Gabriel blows his horn.

On the other hand….

So.

Miss Max had the audacity to challenge my selection of destination sites because they didn’t include anything from the Jolly Olde Country*. The nerve!

However, it is also true that I struggled with myself not to include my favorite remnant of an ancient civilization which does just happen to be in, okay bite me, ENGLAND.

I present for your edification and pleasure, Castlerigg Stone Circle.

(Surely you didn’t expect me to recommend those Other Big Rocks? Every tourist who sets foot in England makes it there, and you will likely have to elbow your way betwixt and between them to get your photos. Besides which, I just don’t think they’re as evocative as Castlerigg. Even though our first visit to the Henge was in a gale with it raining sideways — which was really rather cool, and we were the only ones who braved the weather that afternoon. But our first visit to Castlerigg was at sunset when the sky was truly on fire — red, red, red. Gorgeous. And we were the only ones there, as well, and I didn’t want to leave.)

And, speaking of coffee, I’m still struggling with this fair trade organic thing. I just hate having to mail order it, but I have trouble finding one I really enjoy drinking. So far my fave has been Bishop’s Blend — more specifically, their Cafe de la Paz, because I am not that fond of the truly strong coffees so many love, which makes my taste as plebian as those who think Stonehenge is the best rock collection in the UK, but I digress — yet I hate having to order it online. (Even though it has been very fresh when I got it, or I guess so, since the beans are glossy instead of dry-looking which to me makes it look fresh.)

But the stuff I’ve found from time to time at Starbucks or Whole Foods Market doesn’t suit me; in fact, I have to force it down. So this morning I decided to order some more Cafe de la Paz and then discovered a couple of interesting things.

One, even though it seems pricey at $8.95 per 12 oz bag, I notice that it is cheaper than the other Pura Vida coffees on that site. I wonder why, especially since the profits are going to charity. (Or maybe that’s why? Maybe the ERD doesn’t feel the need to jack the price up as high?) Oh wait. Pura Vida is nonprofit, too. So, hmm. I have no idea.

However –

Sojo Blend on the same site is only $9.95 a pound. So I ordered a bag of each and will try to remember to do a taste test at my mom’s when there are plenty of coffee drinkers around.

And if you are wondering what is the big deal about fair trade, here is a bit of an explanation from the Sojo website.

And while I’m on the subject –

Bicycles. Yes, bicycles. We were driving home (sniff, whimper, sniff) from RoMo and listening to Art Bell (shut up) and “In the first hour, researcher Matt Savinar commented on peak oil.”

And every time Savinar mentioned bicycles as an alternative, Art Bell growled, “And don’t say ‘bicycles’ because nobody is gonna do that.” (Because we all know that it’s one thing to ask the American public to believe in space creatures inhabiting earth and an entirely different one to expect them to actually want to do something proactive about the oil crisis. Oh wait. It is. I hate when I confuse myself this way.)

Anyway, back to the point at hand –

Mr. Bell, with all due respect, bite my ass.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

* By the way, that is my favorite travel guide. The writers are not above using a bit of snark and attitude and because it is thick and text-based (rather than pretty photos) it gives info on villages and sites that never get mentioned in the glossier books. It has been my right hand on every trip we’ve made across the pond, or the Scottish and Welsh equivalents, as needed. Of course this may only be important when you have rented a car and are all about getting off the beaten path. If you’re just staying in London and taking day trips out (yawn) maybe the ordinary travel guides are enough.