Angels in the heavens, O Christ our Saviour, praise Thy Resurrection with hymns; deem us also who are on earth worthy to glorify Thee with a pure heart.
Mark 16.1-8
When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?’ When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’ So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. Glory to the Holy, and Consubstantial, and Life-creating, and Indivisible Trinity, always, now and ever, and unto the ages. Amen.
Χριστος Ανεστη εκ νεκρων θανατω θανατον πατησας και τοις εν τοις μνημασιν ζωην χαρισαμενος
Christ is risen from the dead trampling down death by death and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.
It is the day of Resurrection, let us be radiant, O ye peoples; Pascha, the Lord's Pascha; for Christ God hath brought us from death unto life, and from earth unto Heaven as we sing the triumphal hymn.
Let us purify our senses and we shall behold Christ, radiant with the unapproachable light of the Resurrection, and we shall clearly hear Him say: Rejoice! as we sing the triumphal hymn.
For it is meet that the Heavens should rejoice, and that the earth should be glad, and that the whole world, both visible and invisible, should keep the feast; for Christ, our everlasting Joy, hath arisen. --The Pentecostarion
Alleluia, Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission; so he came and removed his body. Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.
First, the conclusion of the Matthew Passion (I am listening to the whole thing today).
Then the harrowing of hell:
Hell was wounded in the heart when it received Him whose side was pierced by the spear; consumed by divine fire it groaned aloud at our salvation who sing: O God our Deliverer, blessed art Thou. --Mattins of Holy Saturday, Lenten Triodion
Despoiler of death, you have delivered us from the last enemy, claiming us forever as your own. All glory to you!
O Christ our God, Thou has worked salvation in the midst of the earth: Thou hast stretched out Thy most pure hands upon the Cross, and gathered together all the nations, as they cry: O Lord, glory to Thee.
The priest and the sacrifice have made the people one with God.
The people have been baptized into the death and rising of the Lamb.
They are now a holy people and a royal priesthood.
And so, on this day, they act as priests and, in union with the Great High Priest, intercede for the world in The Solemn Collects.
We pray, therefore, for all creation and for people everywhere according to their needs.
Let us pray for the holy Catholic Church of Christ throughout the world; That God will energize it with Good News, flood it with compassion, purge it of error, grace it with humility, and kick it into the current century.
Let us pray for all nations and peoples of the earth, and for those in authority among them; That tribalism may be set aside and the common good be sought and served in justice and truth, that all may live in peace, health, and concord.
Let us pray for all who suffer and are afflicted in body or in mind; That we may take heed and become God's means of comfort and relief, messengers of God's love, and strong prophets to name and dismantle oppressive or neglectful structures.
Let us pray for all who have not received the Gospel of Christ; That God will open their hearts and ours to the truth, and lead them and us to faith, obedience, and transformation.
Let us commit ourselves to our God, and pray for the grace of a holy life, that, with all who have departed this world and have died in the peace of Christ, and those whose faith is known to God alone, we may be accounted worthy to enter into the fullness of the joy of our Lord, and receive the crown of life in the day of resurrection.
If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.
Lord, we resist yet know you call us to die to self that we might truly live and we know it is the false self we must die to, not the truest self you created us to become. We usually think of this in terms of our individual selves but do you not also call our collective false selves to die? The Church, on every level, is going through bad times these days. Could you help us as your body to also die to self - to forget, by your grace, about institutional survival and abandon ourselves to service and embodiment of Gospel? I think it would joy your heart and suspect the world would know more joy also. Thanks.
Lord, when Thou hast ascended on the Cross, fear and trembling seized all creation. Thou hast not suffered the earth to swallow up those that crucified Thee; but Thou hast commanded hell to render up its prisoners, for the regeneration of mortals. Judge of the living and the dead, Thou hast come to bring, not death, but life. O Lover of souls, glory to Thee. --Lenten Triodon [adapted]
What was it like, Jesus, to know where it all was headed but not yet know the outcome? To carry within you the certainty of betrayal, denial, and forsakenness? To move forward in those final hours knowing the Romans would put you to death? Look now, in your boundless compassion, on all those whose hearts are torn with anguish, those who suffer alone, those unjustly condemned, those betrayed, and those with no reasonable hope. Be their companion, their succor, their secret strength. Deliver us all from our acts and intentions of betrayal, denial, and abandonment. Der vogorma. Gospodi, pomiluj, Kyrie, eleison. Lord, have mercy.
Aus Liebe will Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben, Von einer Sünde weiß er nichts. Daß das ewige Verderben Und die Strafe des Gerichts Nicht auf meiner Seele bliebe.
For love, For love my Savior is now dying, Of sin and guilt He knows not. So eternal desolation And the sinner's righteous doom Shall not rest upon my spirit.
Let us recall that the suffering of all sentient beings is part of the ongoing Passion of Christ, in whom all things exist. Let us pray for those going through their own Holy Week.
For Kathy having tests done.
For Dave waiting to hear test results.
For Mark who has had an awful day.
For Declan struggling for health and for his family.
For Jonathan and the Missus.
For Robert Whitaker and his family.
For a blogger and his brother.
For all victims of every form of abuse that they may find healing (which presupposes some truth and justice as well).
For all field workers as we recall the life of César Chávez.
For clergy trying to make it through Holy Week and for altar guild members everywhere.
For those attacked for being real and those afraid of their own reality.
He who is rich made Himself lowly for our sakes: rising from the Supper, He took a towel and girded Himself, and bowing down He washed the feet of the disciples and the traitor. --Lenten Triodion
After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, "Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me." The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples--the one whom Jesus loved--was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus answered, "It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish." So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, "Do quickly what you are going to do." Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, "Buy what we need for the festival"; or, that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night. When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.
Jesus, you handed the sop to Judas but, as I recall, your friends all ate that night and that same night they all forsook you. When it comes time to live as you ask us, we all fail rather miserably. I'm rethinking the "gates of hell" bit. The church may prevail against its own brittle death-dealing self. Sigh. If your Spirit can renew the face of the earth it can certainly renew us. We need to be raised from the dead. Srsly. Domine, ad adjuvandum nos festina!
I pray this knowing that we have already been raised with Christ, but we need to be raised from our habits of death to live as risen people.
I ask your prayers for K. who is going in for a CT scan sometime this week.
I got a lovely card today saying: "Thank you for your love, support and prayers while I'm getting well. Love, Declan and his family." Since you all have been part of that love, support, and prayers I wanted you to know.
I ask continued prayers for Dave. His surgery today went well but it will be a while before biopsy results.
And for Steven who is gearing up for his cardiac catheterization on Wednesday.
For those slain or injured by suicide bombers in the Moscow subway.
For reduced tensions between North and South Korea.
For all who rebuild their lives, no matter what or where the disaster.
For our beloved Fran who always freaks before she speaks (or sermonizes).
Margaret asks our prayers for K. L. who had neck surgery today.
Kirstin is praying for a friend in the ICU, and for all who are homeless and who don't have health insurance.
Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, "Sir, we wish to see Jesus." Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor. "Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say--'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name." Then a voice came from heaven, "I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again." The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, "An angel has spoken to him." Jesus answered, "This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself." He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die. The crowd answered him, "We have heard from the law that the Messiah remains forever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?" Jesus said to them, "The light is with you for a little longer. Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you. If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going. While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light." After Jesus had said this, he departed and hid from them.
Lord, how often are we in the position of those Greeks. We would see you. Even if we put aside our distractions and deceits, you are often obscured, even and especially by your churches and our godly pieties. Set us free from all that hides you: smarmy platitudes, easy answers, self-serving lies, and every distortion of your pure Gospel. Teach us, and teach your church, to follow you in the way of the grain, to die to what we know in order to be raised into what God knows.
I ask your prayers for Dave who has surgery tomorrow morning. May all go well and may he get good news. May his anxiety ease.
We remember this night all those endangered by tornadoes.
I give thanks for the six households that gathered to worship this morning at Our Saviour, South Valley, and especially for those who labor on its behalf and who have a vision of possibilities.
I offer heartfelt thanks for the arrival of spring in New Mexico. Not for my little garden but for the sake of food throughout the earth I pray for bees and other pollinating insects.
Prayers for the success of a new beginning on START treaties between the Russian Federation and the USA.
For our President as he travels.
For the 153 trapped in a Chinese coal mine after it was flooded.
Ever since you rose from Jordan's muddy waters, Jesus, you have disturbed us, questioning our assumptions, challenging our way of doing things, upsetting all our power structures, and daring to force us to reexamine who we are and what it means to be fully human. Now you insist on marching headlong toward the nearest seat of power. I told you, nothing good will come of this, and you gave me that tender, infuriating look that insists it will. Lord, help my unbelief.
That too. But my Christmas present from my BFF was two half-days of yard help and today was one of them. Frankly, he did all the planting of roses and herbs and most of the annuals. I weeded, pruned, mulched, and did some of the planting of annuals and hauled off trash. Best of all, we had time to visit and talk about this and that.
Today's additions to the yard were six bare root roses, five French lavenders, three other herbs, and 42 mixed pansies and violas.
Remember the south wall with snow and iris?
Two standard miniature roses and all that lavender have joined the iris.
The Methley plum is quite stunning this evening.
And here is a view of the entire yard as seen through the Red Haven peach tree.
Alas, I think we saw all of three bees or other insects, so pollinating does not seem to be happening. Sigh.
I intend to reprise last year's practice of featuring Bach's St Matthew Passion during Holy Week.
Lord Christ, you acknowledged that paving stones and roadside rubble can be more faithful and better witnesses to you than we often are. Forgive our faithlessness. Anoint us with the Spirit that we may acknowledge you and proclaim your truth, your justice, your compassion, your forgiveness, and your glory. Strengthen us to follow where you lead. For your mercy's sake. Amen.
In my beginning is my end. In succession Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass. Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires, Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth Which is already flesh, fur and faeces, Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf. Houses live and die: there is a time for building And a time for living and for generation And a time for the wind to break the loosened pane And to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trots And to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto. --T. S. Eliot, East Coker
When I read this passage, the opening lines of East Coker, I cannot help thinking of the Sunday when I drove into the Ninth Ward of New Orleans and beheld vast expanses of grassy fields where there were once homes, streets, and people living their lives. The photo above is not from there; it is a field where homes had been bulldozed and cleared. I drove by it most mornings on my way to work. In the Ninth Ward I could not bring myself to take many photographs. It seemed too intrusive on human grief.
If we pay attention, nature will remind us how brief our lives are. I never cease to marvel at how swiftly vegetation will rise up through our concrete and asphalt, tearing apart our momentary construction, covering it over with vines, digesting it, obscuring it, obliterating it. I think about the six thousand years of history for which we have written records, then the thousands and tens of thousand years before that. I read at Wikipedia that "Anatomically modern humans first appear in the fossil record in Africa about 195,000 years ago...." On a planet 4.5 billion years old that is hardly impressive.
A silent motto is woven into an arras, probably a slogan with no little arrogance, some dynastic slogan or weighty scriptural citation, or something form the classics.
Hercules tapestry (an arras)
Whatever the motto, meant to endure for the ages, it is now part of a tattered arras (tapestry), a memory of an age gone by. This sends my mind leaping to Durham Cathedral where I could see old battle standards hung in a chapel where I attended Mass early one morning. Unraveled glory of dedicated warriors, shreds of battles now forgotten by most. Only a military historian or archivist is likely to know the tales behind each standard hanging high overhead, gradually yielding to time until nothing shall remain except, perhaps, the iron pole that holds it now.
"Old stone to new building...." My imagination remains in Northumbria, visiting Hexham where Wilfrith brought relics of St Andrew. As one descends beneath the abbey, carefully if one is of my height, one can see old Roman stones, still bearing remnants of transcriptions, re-used to create this Christian shrine.
Impermanence. One of the most basic realities, yet one we face so poorly.
My body gives a little snort as I think of Disney's The Lion King and the song "circle of life." I am glad someone, I can no longer remember who, noted that the experience is very different if you are a dead lion disintegrating into grass or a live antelope about to be ripped to shreds and eaten.
I am quite opposed to embalming, more or less hermetically sealed coffins and concrete liners. It is right and good and holy that my body return to the earth. The rest is artificial, a whole industry based on denial and illusion. Would you not rather become rich soil than some disgusting slime in a sealed box? Really. You get my point.
Personally, I am opting for cremation and my ashes scattered on hillsides because I love the mountains. There are two places where I would like to join the earth again. The old road into Hume Lake overlooking Kings Canyon, one which I have ridden so many times, and Sandia Peak looking down on the Rio Grande Valley. (My future survivors, take note.)
I digress, perhaps influenced by chemicals after a dental adventure. And yet, not. We are born, we live, we die. To be born is to be destined for death. "In my beginning is my end." In my beginning may be found my gene sequence and my historical particularity - born into this setting at this particular time, with all the gifts and curses and indifferent constraints that this entails. In theory, if one could know all the constituent factors at any given moment one could predict what must follow. "In my beginning is my end." Yet since I am incapable of knowing the location and motion of every subatomic particle, and since things get very indeterminate at the subatomic level, well.... the future remains open.
To God it may all be patent. To us, not so much. Still, I know that things will happen in succession. I look at photos of myself as a young boy, a teen, a seminarian, a thirty-something, on up to recent photos. Like a house I rise and fall, crumble, and am extended, removed, destroyed.... Well, we have not yet gotten that far, but it is coming.
There will come "a time for the wind to break the loosened pane."
Can I embrace the totality of my life? Can I embrace my impermanence?
Of course, "end," as John Booty reminds us, is not merely terminus but τελος, goal as well as cessation. In Burnt Norton Eliot led us on "the way down," the via negativa, the way of loss, purgation, and denial. Now we begin to explore the meaning and purpose of it all. There is, indeed, meaning in our lives. We can look to our beginning (more than Roots) for clues.
I love the open fields of New Mexico. They exhilarate me. Perhaps they echo the agricultural expanses of the Central Valley of California where I was born. I feel that I am a child of the dusty soil of the vineyards in the San Joaquin Valley. I shall become, I suppose, part of the soil of the Rio Grande Valley some day.
This thought does not depress me. It comforts me.
As we rapidly approach Holy Week, I hope you have had a blessed Lent.
I would like to dedicate this post to Our Lady, Богородится / θεοτοκος / Mother of God. Friar Gabriel worships and serves the Gospel with his body.
The Angel of the Lord declared to Mary: And she conceived of the Holy Spirit.
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.
Behold the handmaid of the Lord: Be it done unto me according to Thy word.
Hail Mary . . .
And the Word was made Flesh: And dwelt among us.
Hail Mary . . .
Pray for us, O Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
Let us pray:
Pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts; that we, to whom the incarnation of Christ, Thy Son, was made known by the message of an angel, may by His Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of His Resurrection, through the same Christ Our Lord.
AmericanDad lays it all out there and, if you really want a documented sense of what needs to stop, read the whole thing. I've bookmarked it.
His open letter to conservatives:
First, the invitation: Come back to us.
Now the advice. You're going to have to come up with a platform that isn't built on a foundation of cowardice: fear of people with colors, religions, cultures and sex lives that differ from your own; fear of reform in banking, health care, energy; fantasy fears of America being transformed into an Islamic nation, into social/commun/fasc-ism, into a disarmed populace put in internment camps; and more. But you have work to do even before you take on that task.
Your party -- the GOP -- and the conservative end of the American political spectrum have become irresponsible and irrational. Worse, it's tolerating, promoting and celebrating prejudice and hatred. Let me provide some examples -- by no means an exhaustive list -- of where the Right as gotten itself stuck in a swamp of hypocrisy, hyperbole, historical inaccuracy and hatred.
If you're going to regain your stature as a party of rational, responsible people, you'll have to start by draining this swamp:
The detail of the pattern is movement, As in the figure of the ten stairs. Desire itself is movement Not in itself desirable; Love is itself unmoving, Only the cause and end of movement, Timeless, and undesiring Except in the aspect of time Caught in the form of limitation Between un-being and being. Sudden in a shaft of sunlight Even while the dust moves There rises the hidden laughter Of children in the foliage Quick now, here, now, always— Ridiculous the waste sad time Stretching before and after. T. S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Perhaps you have heard of the yoga class where, at some point, the instructor asks the class, "What time is it?" A newcomer might be puzzled as to how one should answer since there is no clock in sight but the regulars all respond in unison, "Now."
The question and the answer - or, as we say in liturgical circles, the versicle and the response - challenge our usual way of thinking. We are clock watchers or, increasingly, prone to take out our cell phones many times a day to check the time. Nonetheless, our divisions and expressions of time are all artificial constructs. The true answer is always "now."
Now, after all, is the only moment we have. From within time, commonly conceptualized, the past has passed by and future is yet to come. We draw breath, act, hold still only in the moment.
Eliot calls us away from memory and anticipation into the present moment, like a zen master recalling us to pure awareness in the present, free of interpretation (and misinterpretation), free of desire and regret.
And so this Lent we try, if only fitfully, to enter the moment. To let go of everything but God, even our desire for God, and enter the cloud of unknowing, with no guarantees. Our expectations are inevitably disappointed, our illusions all fail us.
If lucky, we will discern a pattern, an eternal pattern of grace that is the ground and goal of all movement. The only desire we can keep is the desire for God and that, stripped of all idols and false rewards holds nothing desirable in any ordinary sense. We do not really come to the still point; we realize that is where we have always been. We were simply unaware amid the "shrieking, scolding, mocking, or merely chattering." [Good heavens, Eliot has prophesied our current situation, has he not?]
Last Sunday we sang "Just as I am" at church. Just as we are, stripped of everything in the course of this poem, we are in danger of not even being. Yet we are held in the Ground of becoming, thus caught "between un-being and being."
There in that place that is no place and everyplace, the moment that is always and never, the eternal here and now, we have our epiphany, our illumination, "sudden in a shaft of sunlight." The sound - a vibration, a movement within time - that first led us to transcend our ordinary timebound perception calls us once more to awareness.
There rises the hidden laughter Of children in the foliage
Startled (how very zen) we are called: "Quick now, here, now, always."
We see our constructs as not terribly helpful. "Ridiculous the waste sad time/ Stretching before and after."
Where are you?
Here.
What time is it?
Now.
...behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation. --2 Corinthians 6:2b
Words move, music moves Only in time; but that which is only living Can only die. Words, after speech, reach Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern, Can words or music reach The stillness, as a Chinese jar still Moves perpetually in its stillness. Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts, Not that only, but the co-existence, Or say that the end precedes the beginning, And the end and the beginning were always there Before the beginning and after the end. And all is always now. Words strain, Crack and sometimes break, under the burden, Under the tension, slip, slide, perish, Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place, Will not stay still. Shrieking voices Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering, Always assail them. The Word in the desert Is most attacked by voices of temptation, The crying shadow in the funeral dance, The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera. --T. S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Our journey along the purgative way continues to echo Eliot's juxtapositions: word and silence, living and dying, motion and stillness, end and beginning and now.
"[T]hat which is only living/ Can only die." Where there is simply βιος (bios, biological life) the inevitable consequence is its cessation. Mere life can only die.
Here we might suggest ζωη (zōē, life rooted in the Undying, the life proclaimed by Jesus) as the alternative to that which is "only" living. To attain this latter we let go of the former. One passes, the other abides.
Within this poem we struggle, as Eliot struggles with words, to hold together the polarities, to transcend our simple dualities. There is a motion in the pattern on the motionless Chinese jar. When Eliot writes of the end preceding the beginning, I think of Satie's theory that there is a pre-existent rhythm always and ever before musicians play a note. Satie struggled to express this in his music, to compose out of that which precedes music and makes music possible.
How can we talk of these things? "Words strain/ Crack, and sometimes break, under the burden...." Our noise assails the stillness. Our words tempt and attack the Word. If we can be but silent we might hear that Word speak.
03/22/10 DoD: Army Casualty Identified Spc. Robert M. Rieckhoff, 26, of Kenosha, Wis., died March 18 in Baghdad, of wounds suffered when enemy forces attacked his unit with rocket-propelled grenade fire. He was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 15th Field Artillery Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division (Light Infantry), Fort Drum, N.Y.
3/18/10 DoD: Army Casualty Identified Staff Sgt. Richard J. Jordan, 29, of Tyler, Texas, died March 16 in Mosul, Iraq, of injuries sustained during a vehicle roll-over. He was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 36th Infantry Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 1st Armored Division, Fort Bliss, Texas.
3/17/10 DoD: Army Casualty Identified Spc. Steven J. Bishop, 29, of Christiansburg, Va., died March 13 in Tikrit, Iraq, while supporting combat operations. He was assigned to the 422nd Civil Affairs Battalion, 352nd Civil Affairs Command, U.S. Army Civil Affairs and Psychological Operations Command, Fort Bragg, N.C.
03/22/10 DoD: Army Casualty Identified Sgt. Joel D. Clarkson, 23, of Fairbanks, Alaska, died March 16 at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, Germany, of wounds sustained March 13 during combat operations in Helmand province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to the 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Wash.
03/22/10 DoD: Navy Casualty Identified Chief Petty Officer Adam Brown, 36, of Hot Springs, Ark., died March 18 in Afghanistan. He was assigned to an East Coast -based SEAL Team.
03/18/10 DoD: Marine Casualty Identified Gunnery Sgt. Robert L. Gilbert II, 28, of Richfield, Ohio, died March 16 of wounds sustained March 8 while supporting combat operations in Badghis province, Afghanistan. He was assigned to 2nd Marine Special Operations Battalion, Marine Special Operations Regiment, U.S. Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command, Camp Lejeune, N.C.
I ask your prayers for Raymond and Craig who have lost much and are going through anxious times.
Also for my nephew Glen who got news that he will be among those laid off in budget cuts.
On World Water Day we pray that all on this planet may have access to safe, healthful water.
In the aftermath, no, in the midst of bitter partisan debate in our nation:
Almighty God, you proclaim your truth in every age by many voices: Direct, in our time, we pray, those who speak where many listen and write what many read; that they may do their part in making the heart of this people wise, its mind sound, and its will righteous; to the honor of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Today is the feast of St Cuthbert of Lindisfarne: monk, prior, bishop, healer, hermit. The photo in our "Oremus" shot tonight is from a mural in the Galilee Chapel at Durham Cathedral, one of the older extant representations of the saint. He was trained by Irish saints though the yellow beard in this mural suggests Saxon blood. While hundreds of churches in England are titled by him, I am aware of very few in the United States. When Bishop Swing instituted me as rector of St Cuthbert's, Oakland, I had a strong sense of Cuthbert's presence above the altar watching over things. In 1997 I made a pilgrimage to Durham where his remains are buried.
From Doxy I have an update on her brother-in-law, Jim, with a brain tumor. He "continues to respond to chemotherapy. Something of a miracle, and I know that knowledge of your prayers has really helped Jim, Ruthie, and the boys. So bless you for that."
Jane R asks her prayers for her mother's best friend from college, Ruth, who has just died at age 92, survived by her children Richard and Amy. May she rest in peace and rise in glory. May all who love her find comfort.
For the repose of the soul of Steward L. Udall, conservationist and former Secretary of the Interior. Senator Tom Udall of New Mexico is his son.
I ask your prayers for guidance as I make decisions about how I invest my energy.
I ask your prayers not over specific legislation but for effective health care available for all people in the United States and around the world. Any votes that take place in DC tomorrow fall under that umbrella.
For just and peaceful resolution of the political conflict in Thailand.
For peace in Iraq and for the rebuilding of that nation after our unwarranted and illegal invasion and occupation seven years ago.
For the people of South Africa as they prepare to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the Sharpeville Massacre.
UPDATE: For those endangered by a volcanic eruption beside the Eyjafjallajokull glacier in southern Iceland. The concern is that a fissure might form under the glacier and cause flooding. "The Icelandic Civil Aviation Administration has ordered aircraft to stay 120 nautical miles away from the volcano area, essentially closing it off."
Almighty God, you called Cuthbert from following the flock to be a shepherd of your people: Mercifully grant that, as he sought in dangerous and remote places those who had erred and strayed from your ways, so we may seek the indifferent and the lost, and lead them back to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
... who said Albuquerque is all about the horizon.
Whoever said it, I believe it is true. Here are shots from my walk today (some of them stitched together from four photographs, the first three cropped from single shots). You may click on the photos to enlarge them and see more details.
Sorry about the power lines in this one but it was the best shot I could get of downtown.
To a place where an abandoned couch presides in lonely majesty....
To the place where televisions go to die.
Needless to say, this was not the prettiest part of my walk. But it is part of urban reality. I assume - I hope - people who toss their electronics out like that are unaware of toxic metal content.
Since this was, nonetheless, part of my walk, I recorded it.
The views expressed on this blog are solely those of the blogger and do not represent the positions of any group or organization with which he may be affiliated. As one who spent decades stuffing down his opinions and emotions, I am inclined to cut loose here, which I believe is healthy, honest, and part of the process of sanctification in the long run. Politics and spirituality mingle freely here, along with theatre reviews, photography, and passionate talk about food, literature, and the human journey. If anything written here offends you, please find other blogs to read. I am here to share, not to do battle.
Sorry about the power lines in this one
To a place where an abandoned couch presides in lonely majesty....
To the place where televisions go to die.
