Hail The Conquering Hero

Faithful Pat The White Hound

When I arrived home this afternoon, both terriers were barking at the south end of the barn.  I assumed they were bothering my chickens, who were on pasture for the day.  But as I passed the sawdust bin, I saw the body of a red fox draped across a stack of concrete bags.  Closer inspection revealed that it was still warm and limp.  Neither terrier was bloodied, so I placed the carcass where they couldn't get it, checked my birds, and returned to the house to change and do chores.  Faithful Pat, the white hound, was waiting for me at the back door of the house.  He was seriously bloodied and had a deep gash across the top of his head, revealing his bare skull.  He didn't seem to be in pain, and so I slipped a lead on him, walked him to the Jeep, and drove him to the vet, who assures me that with a few stitches he will be as good as new.  I pick him up tomorrow morning. 

For some ten years, Pat has been my primary line of defense against deer, racoons, fox, coyotes, and other mid to large sized animals who left to themselves would decimate my gardens, kill my birds, and generally wreak havoc on the farm.  While I have lost a few chickens, lettuce, and cabbage from time to time, and more than my fair share of quail and pheasants on one or two occasions, Pat's presence has been a consistant and generally non lethal deterrent to maurading creatures in the neighborhood.

But today, the game was obviously more serious.  Herr Todd had designs on my laying flock, and a thirteen year old dog, retired and well past his prime, did exactly what he was bred and kept to do, at no small cost to himself.  I salute his courage  and look forward to his triumphant homecoming tomorrow morning.  He will have a place of honour by the fire, and I might even cook him steak and eggs for supper tomorrow night.

It is said that the High Kings of ancient Ireland kept special packs of white hounds which were valued for their courage, faithfulness, and sporting ability.  I don't know if my Pat carries their bloodline, but he certainly exhibits their characteristics.  Thank you Pat for a job well done.  Might we all be as true to our calling as you have been today.

As for Mr. Fox, I will take him to the taxidermist tomorrow morning.  His beauty will entrance children and visitors for years to come. 

Icons of Christ: the Same Yesterday, Today, and Forever

I've been reminded over the past few days of how easily institutions can fail to meet our expectations.  In the midst of those musings, I was reminded of him who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  In the idleness of my mind, I began to cast around for some tangible object which could be for me an icon of him who will never leave me or forsake me.  I sought some common and yet constant reminder which models if you will consistancy and unchanging functional goodness so completely that it might become for me a picture of something much greater than itself.  I imagined some Platonic "shadow" which might point me to the true form of all that is constant and true: Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour; and my Master.

Barbour's Beaufort Jacket

As I pondered these things, I decided to retire to the TV Lounge and wax my old Barbour shooting jacket.  When Rebecca surprized me with it a few years back, it was right out of a fashonplate, glistening dark green with a brown courdoury collar, brass zippers, the trademark tartan lining, and a quilted removable liner which could double as a vest underneath a tweed or herringbone jacket.  Now, it is well worn.  With its broken game pocket zipper and the odd tear or hole here or there, it is a veteran of many hunts.  Rebecca says it stinks and tells me that I ought not to wear it, save to the barn or afield.  I prefer to think of it as a bit "birdy," and take some rather unseemly pride in the fact that it marks me apart from those shooters, hunters, and horsey types that only roll out for the opening day of the season or for the odd horse or dog show.

And so I sat down with my old friend and a very overpriced can of "Barbour Original Formula Wax  Thornproof Dressing."  It took two full episodes of Inspector Barnaby and DS Scott in "Midsomer Murders" to repair last year's tears and to wax the jacket, with special attention to the seams.  But now it glistens with the soft gleam of fresh wax and hangs at the base of the stairs with my faded old Orvis Crusher Fedora, ready for yet another season.  It will keep me absolutely dry without the stifling odor of manmade fibers or the collected heat of a plastic or rubber shell.  Like all Barbour coats, it is cut for the specific sport for which it was designed, and I can swing right to left on a high pass  pheasant as if I were wearing only a light shirt.  My Barbour Beaufort shooting jacket has all of the function and style it had the day we bought it at Mad River Outfitters in Columbus.  It is just about as consant and true as any physical thing I own, even after these years of hard use on the farm and in the field. 

Now, when I look around me and see so many of the things I love passing into history, I look down at my barn coat and smile, because some things- the truly important things- never change.  It may seem strange to some of my gentle readers to think of a shooting coat as an icon of the Christ.  But there are many things in this great world which he can and does use to remind us of his faithfulness and changelessness.  I will never willingly give up the beautiful hand written Icon of Christ that cousin Helen brought back for me from Kiev.  And I doubt that my good friends at Holy Cross Carpathian Orthodox Church will be hanging up a Barbour jacket on the iconostasis anytime soon.  But when I don my faithful old friend on a cold and rainy winter's day, I will always think of Jesus, who saved me, and keeps me, and who will come again to receive me as his own.

Jesus Christ, by Heinrich Hoffman
My Constant in the Midst of Change

  

The End? Or The Beginning?

Jesus Christ- Our King and Saviour, My Lord

Rector's Rambling: November AD MMXII

I can't say that I was stunned- perhaps saddened and sickened would be better words.  I had logged on to check my e-mail and the Anglican news servers before going to our October Vestry meeting.  What I had dreaded had at last happened.  My friends in the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina had left the Episcopal Church.  In the words of one of their own officers:

"October 17, 2012

Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

On Monday, October 15, 2012, Bishop Lawrence was notified by the Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, that on September 18, 2012 the Disciplinary Board for Bishops had certified his abandonment of The Episcopal Church. This action triggered two pre-existing corporate resolutions of the Diocese made on November 1, 2011 and October 2, 2012, which simultaneously disaffiliated the Diocese from The Episcopal Church and called a Special Convention. That Convention will be held at St. Philip’s Church, Charleston, on Saturday, November 17, 2012.

The clergy of the Diocese are consequently called to gather for a special Clergy Day this Friday, October 19th at St. Paul’s, Summerville. Our meeting will begin at 10:30 a.m. and conclude by 4:00 p.m. The clergy of the Diocese are asked to RSVP electronically...

Our time will be spent discussing the significance of the actions taken by the Episcopal Church, our response as a Diocese and the plans for the immediate future. You may read related documents [on the diocesan website].

In Christ,

--(The Rev. Canon) Jim Lewis, Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina"

 

 

The event, so long anticipated with dread, now seems to have been eclipsed by a strange sense of calm.  In the midst of that calm, I picked up Love's Redeeming Work:The Anglican Quest for Holiness, edited by Geoffrey Rowell, Kenneth Stevenson, and Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, and published by Oxford University Press in 2001.  I believe with all my heart that the Holy Spirit led me to this 788 page anthology of Anglican spiritual writings through the ages.  As I read, the question began to take shape in my mind, "what is the church, what is the real nature of Christian community?"  For me, this is not just about South Carolina.  It is about friends and family members who have followed their consciences (and I believe the leading of the Holy Spirit) to the Eastern Orthodox or Roman Catholic Churches.  I will never again be able to receive Holy Communion with them.  It is about friends and family members who have left Anglicanism to attend Evangelical or Fundamentalist churches.  (I believe that they too are following God's leading in their lives.)  Never again will we share that wonderful sense of awe and unity of Spirit which has so often flowed from prayer book worship in antient buildings dedicated to God.  And as the general introduction to the cited work points out, what of those neighbors and friends and others who seek God with their hearts, minds, souls, and strength who have been alienated from formal church structure by the behaviour of us who bear the name of Christ? 

 

I do not believe that "The Church" can be defineed as any mere denominational structure- particularly if that structure can only manage to draw a bit over a half million people on any given Sunday morning for worship.  But such structures may well be localized expressions of the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, and without organizational and institutional structures, it does not take long until the "faith received" develops into mere folk religion and good intentions.  It first ceases to be catholic, and the loss of orthodoxy, order, and loving unity is usually not long in coming. 

 

And so what am I to do?  What are we to do at Saint John's?  I don't have all of the answers, but here are a few things which cross my mind:

1. I will continue to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and that all who are reconciled to the Father receive that gift by his grace.  I will define the terms of this foundational belief in the terms set in Scripture and in the three historic creeds of the Church.

2. I will order my moral life, with God's help and to the best of my ability, after the example and teaching of Holy Scripture, and of our holy Mother the Church.

3. I will worship according to the forms and traditions of The Book of Common Prayer.

4. I will accept and affirm as fellow Christians all who exhibit in their profession of faith the threefold Johannine test (from the First Letter of St. John) of belief in Christ as defined in Scripture and Holy Tradition (the test of Doctrine), of godly behaviour as defined by Scripture (the test of Obedience), and  of mutual love- which is modeled for us by Christ and his saints in Scripture and Holy Tradition (the test of Love).

5. I will honour and respect the decisions of those Christians who believe that our sacramental fellowship and interchangability of orders must be limited for reasons of doctrine or conscience, and at the same tiime, I will maintain our open sacramental ministry at St. John's to all who have been baptised in the Name of the Holy and Blessed Trinity.

6. I will work to remain friends with adherents of other Christian denominations and non-christian faith groups, whatever events may occur, and whatever organizations to which we belong may decide to do.

7. I will not participate in or condone any actions, conversations, or gatherings public or private which exacerbate the divisions which plague the people of God.  If I find myself in a place where such things are going on, I will physically leave the gathering without any expression of anger, and will pray for all those involved in the situation, myself included.

 

Honestly, I don't know what else to do.  The Church will prosper and accomplish the mission given her by Christ, but she looks less and less like the beautiful church I once embraced.  That brings me some real sadness, but it also calls me to see real opportunity for the Bride of Christ to engage the world in new and exciting ways in a new millenium.  I pray for strength to make the transition to what will be, in the full knowledge that Christ is Victorious.  But I will always treasure in my heart the vision of what might have been.

 

To Christ- the true King!

Bill+

 

 

J.B. Bury: An Honest Scholar and a Grand Example

J.B. Bury

Today, after clearing trails, cutting brush in front of the deer blind, getting the greenhouse ready for winter, and making a trip into town to do some Mission Committee work, I sat down with a Guinness and a Macanudo and started J.B. Bury's The Life of St. Patrick and His Place in History.  I had downloaded the book some months back after reading Bury's The Reformation in England and Scotland.  He is one of those rare practitioners of Clio's art who can enthrall his readers without sacrificing his respect for facts and available data to the whims of party spirit or pre-supposition.  Even though his arguments and facts are dated after a hundred years plus, his writings still provide the amateur and the professional historian a wonderful example of how good history can be good literature.

Wikipedia says of Professor Bury:
"Bury was born and raised in Clontibret, County Monaghan, where his father was Rector of the Anglican Church of Ireland. He was educated first by his parents and then at Foyle College in Derry and Trinity College in Dublin, where he graduated in 1882 and was made a fellow in 1885, at the age of 24. In 1893 he gained a chair in Modern History at Trinity College, which he held for nine years. In 1898 he was appointed Regius Professor of Greek, also at Trinity, a post he held simultaneously with his history professorship.^[1] In 1902 he became Regius Professor of Modern History at Cambridge University.
At Cambridge, Bury became mentor to the medievalist Sir Steven Runciman, who later commented that he had been Bury's "first, and only, student." At first the reclusive Bury tried to brush him off; then, when Runciman mentioned that he could read Russian, Bury gave him a stack of Bulgarian articles to edit, and so their relationship began. Bury was the author of the first truly authoritative biography of Saint Patrick (1905).
Bury remained at Cambridge until his death at the age of 65 in Rome. He is buried in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome."

So often. honest scholars are forgotten rather quickly after their death or retirement, and they seem never to reach the celeberity status of rock stars or athletes (perhaps C.S. Lewis is the lone modern exception.)  But there are many good people in the academy who rise above the prejudices of their age and write with clarity and honesty.  What they say is perhaps not as important as how they say it.  They provide for us all an example of honest scholarship which neither goes beyond the data available nor seeks to replace reason with rhetoric.  At its best, scholarly argument is a wonderful example of that Holy Wisdom which comes from God alone.  I was taught at Asbury College back in the 70's that all truth is God's truth, regardless of the medium through which it is delivered, and that rightly understood, science and faith are merely flip sides of the same coin.  I still believe that to be true.  It is the basis for the contention in Article XX of the Church of England's Articles of Religion that the Church has no power or right to interpret one part of Scripture in a way which contradicts another.  All wisdom, you see, is of God, and therefore if there seems to be a disconnect between two sources of genuine wisdom, it must be my limited intellect or partial data which is to blame, not the wisdom of God. 

St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:  now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (I Corinthians 13:12.)  Scholars like J.B. Bury are a partial, but blessed foretaste of that day when all things shall be revealed, and the perceived difficulties between science and religion, between culture and faith, between us and God, will at last be reconciled.  Might we all strive to be as careful, as honest, and as willing to defer judgement in the absence of facts as was J.B. Bury..

The Best County Fair in the Land!

The Fairfield County Fairgrounds from Mount Pleasant

 The Fairfield County Fair is loved by the people of our county, and is considered by many in these parts to be the best County Fair in Ohio.  When my own children were unable to attend because of grad school and military service, I know how much they missed it, and how they enjoyed seeing a few pictures of home.  They are back in the area now, but I know there are still many of our home town folks serving, studying, and working in foreign parts who cannot make the fair this year.  Because I know how much many of them love this place, I post these pictures with the message that we miss you, and you are not forgotten.  Wherever you may roam, know that we all look forward to the day when you can come home and be among us again.  God bless you, and thank you for your service.

PS: I couldn't find any good clips of this years draft horse pulls, and the combine/ auto demolition derbys and standardbred races haven't happened as of this posting.  But, they are happening, and we hope you will be here next year.


the mule races

a champion?

the 19th century round dairy barn

the midway at night

hard work pays off!

champion feeder steer 

the concert headliners

fairfield county's largest pumpkin

show jumping for gaited horses- a new class for 2012

"I Love Baby George"

"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise." So says the Bible.  So many times, children have been used by God to show me the depths of Holy Wisdom.  I was recently playing with grand daughter Margaret, aged four, and out of the blue she said, "I love baby George."  She then went right on with her play.  She was talking about her brother, who God willing, will be born in a little over four months. 

 Her statement started me thinking about the sacredness of human life, and in particular the life of the unborn.  It is my understanding that throughout human history, there have been schools of thought and individuals who have justified, sometimes reluctantly, and sometimes without remorse, the destruction of a human child either before birth or shortly after birth.  On paper, and from a distance, some of the arguments advanced seem to make some sense in a sad sort of way.  They seem ever so practical, or designed to allow the taking of an unborn or newborn life as the lesser of several evils, or to reach some greater good for the individual adults, or families, or societies concerned.  I have even heard some say that it would be better for the child when certain medical or environmental situations exist.  But whatever the arguments for taking the life of an unborn or recently born child may be, the Church has always stood against abortion and infanticide.  The consistant position of our Holy Mother the Church makes real sense.  If we truly believe that every human being is made in the image of God, we should do all we can to preserve and protect human life, especially when it is at its most vulnerable and defenseless. 

Along with my grand daughters and their parents, I pray for Baby George.  I don't know what he will be like, but I know that he is wonderfully made in the Imagio Dei, the image of God himself; and that Jesus Christ died and rose again that George might be reconciled to God the Father and live forever.  I know that a wonderful part of my daughter and son-in-law's marriage is that they model for all who know them the relationship between Christ and the Church, and that they have been favoured by God to participate with him in the act of creation.  Baby George, along with his sisters, is the proof of that.

With all my being, I hope and pray that all who read this, should they be faced with the reality of bearing a child, will choose life for the child, whatever the situation may be.  I know that there was a time in this country when maternal mortality was a significant possibility for many women, but thanks to the blessings of medical science, that is seldom the case these days in America.  Much more often, the decision to abort is made because of the impact a pregnancy or child would have on a career, or on a relatinship, or for some other reason.  I cannot imagine baby George being killed for such a reason.  Somehow, we would find a way for him to be welcomed, and loved, and treasured- however difficult it might be.  Might we all pray, and work for the day when every child will be carried to term, and every child loved, and nurtured, and provided for, and valued as a gift of God.