The Caroline Divines: Rector's Rambling Reccomendation for September Reading

King Charles I; Henrietta Maria; and their two eldest children,
 King Charles II and Mary, Princess of Orange
 by Sir Anthony Van Dyck.

I've always been attracted to those writers known as the "Caroline Divines."  They were for the most part men of good will who sought to follow God faithfully during the reigns of King Charles I, the Protectorship of Oliver Cromwell, and the reign of King Charles II.  Their writings reflect the realities of the age in which they lived, were firmly rooted in the classical Christian past, and hoped for a better day when the Kingdom of God might be expressed in a more ecumenical and ordered form.  They are a very foundation stone of Anglican thought and ethos, and God uses them to feed my soul.  I recently purchased  a new book edited by Benjamin Guyer:  The Beauty of Holiness: The Caroline Divines and Their Writings. It was published in 2012 by Canterbury Press in Norwich as a volume in The Canterbury Studies in Spiritual Theology.  http://www.amazon.com/Beauty-Holiness-Caroline-Canterbury-Spiritual/dp/1848250983.

Theirs was a difficult age filled with religious conflict and dynastic struggles, with regicide and social uncertainty, with civil war and divided families.  But through it all they managed to focus on developing relationships with God which valued the past, acknowledged the present realities, and never lost hope.  As one literary historian of the period has said, "they did the best of things in the worst of times."  Theirs was a vision of an earthly kingdom where Christ's Church was united even as the prophets had predicted it would be after the great in gathering of God's people from every nation.  They envisioned a world where the powers of men acknowledged the authority of God and ruled justly and righteously in his name.  It was a world where imperfection lived alongside holiness while men and women signed as Christ's own sought to overcome the world, the flesh, and the devil (as they lived together in God's earthly kingdom!)  Today, many would call their vision idealized and naive, but it was born of painful human reality as people of different parties sought to live together, affirming revealed faith and discovered knowledge as their twin guides.  They sought to chart a course which avoided the pitfalls of radical religion on the one hand and of easy believism (or denial of real differences) on the other.  In so doing they set a tone for Anglicanism, an ethos if you will, which affirmed the faith received while avoiding the harsh doctrinal pronouncements and actions of many of the reformers in both the protestant and catholic camps, as well as the rejection of  Biblical teaching and tradition which characterized some more pragmatic churchmen.  They did not leave their faith undefined, as so many do in such an age.  They rather stated their faith simply and clearly while seeking to live it without rancor or hardness or hatred for those with whom they disagreed.

You can learn more about them at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caroline_Divines. They provide wonderful examples for people like us in an age like ours.  Their spirit and approach to difficult times provides an example which compels me to continue to embrace the Anglican Way, even in our current difficulties.  Here I have found a peace, and a way of maintaining that peace which feeds my soul and overcomes him who would destroy me.  For your reading profit and pleasure, might I suggest the following list of free online books, available at http://anglicanhistory.org/caroline/.  More great Anglican titles are available free online at http://www.anglicanlibrary.org/.

Spiritual Classics of Anglicanism

The Compass Rose of Anglicanism

I was attracted to Anglicanism by many things.  But perhaps its eminent practicality and pastoral realism were for me the greatest draw.  If the writers of the old British situation comedy "Yes, Prime Minister" are right in season one episode seven (The Bishop's Gambit), and theology in the modern church is merely an exercise for justifying not believing in God, then eminent practicality and pastoral realism, growing out of a warm faith in Jesus, based in apostolic orthodoxy, constitute a welcome respite from what often surrounds us.  In any event, I sometimes get tired of arguing with hard headed zealots (both Whigs and pharisees) on the one hand, and pinheads who employ intellectual methodology to redefine the faith on the other.  Perhaps it is better to believe that which I have received from eyewitnesses- that which is contained in Creed and Canon of Scripture.  Perhaps it is better to acquiesce to the faith received than to argue modern notions of piety or interpretation.  Perhaps it is better to live the religion I have known and experienced by faith than to agonize over that which I am not smart enough to understand or industrious enough to discover through honest scholarship.

With these things in mind, I have been considering two books which I have long thought to be among Anglicanism's greatest classics: Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, and The Compleat Angler, by Izaak Walton.  Neither book is particularly religious, and the former was written by a neo-pagan, but both describe admirably the nature of Christian life and community within that aphorus ideal which is called "the ethos of Anglicanism."

A Story of Living Together

Wind in the Willows chronicles the everyday adventures of forest dwellers who are very different, and at times even at odds, but who are forced to co-exist by virtue of their geographic proximity to each other.  In simple ways, that proximity over the years allows them to develop a common set of basic values which ultimately transcends their diversity.  Perhaps this lesson of the animals is an idealized reflection of what ought to be in a land where all the King's subjects are in a sense the responsibility of the King's Church, whether they realize it or not.  As weasels and stoats, badgers, rats, moles, rabbits, and otters live together in and around the wild wood and the river bank; so all those who name Christ as Lord, and beyond that all those for whom he died, are called to realize that we share one world, bestowed upon us by a loving Heavenly Father for our own benefit and pleasure.  It behooves us to get along and to care for one another, for God desires our reconciliation to himself and to each other.

The Izaak Walton Window
From Winchester Cathederal's South East Transcept

The Compleat Angler grows out of one of Mater Anglicaina's most difficult experiences, that of the interregnum under Cromwell and parliamentary rule.  What is a good man to do in impossible times?  To follow the example of Christ's apostles and "go a fishing" is perhaps the best thing.  But fishing is more than merely the pursuit of meat for the frying pan.  It consists of true conviviality, of sharing fellowship, wisdom, and material goods with friends and strangers alike.  It is a matter of appreciating the blessings and beauty around us, and sharing them generously with all people in the name of simple civility and grace.

In these uncertain times, when so many things that seemed so sure are vanishing with each ensuing day, I cling to the faith I have received from the Anglican Divines, the Church Fathers, the Apostles of our Lord, and so many other good and godly people.  I suppose I have stopped looking for a perfect church, or state, or institution of any type.  I must be content to live where I find myself, trusting in God, coming to terms with those people, good and not so good, among whom I live, and doing all the good I can in all the ways I can.  Others may be called to other ways, or to other visions of how the faith ought to be lived, but for me, at my age and in my place, the graces and beauties of classic Anglicanism, with all of her lovability and all of her warts, will have to do. 

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.  AMEN. 

Commitment, Contentment, and a Sense of Belonging

The Peacable Kingdom
by Edward Hicks

Today was not a busy day, but it was one of those where because of one or two things you feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.  And so it was with real joy that I settled into a hickory rocker on the front porch after completing my barn chores at about 10:30 Eastern Standard Time.  The terriers, who had been chasing small unwelcome animals at the barn, finally settled in with me.  We watched the shooting stars and listened to the constant drumming of the crickets and the call of the katydids.   I can't remember when I've enjoyed my evening ration of Redbreast and Navy Flake any more.  Amazingly, there was not a coyote within earshot, which is a very good thing (they run out the fox and kill more fowl than any fox ever dreamed of.)  It is cool enough now in the evenings to wear a kilt for chores, and somehow, the garmet just seems right for rural life. 

When I was a boy, living on the edge of town, I used to wander the fields and woods and dream of a time when I would be able to own property for the long haul.  When I went to college and began to read agrarian and romantic literature, I came to imagine ownership more as stewardship and less as control.  And now here we are, lost in the beauty of a late summer evening in southeastern Ohio.  There is here for me a sense of belonging, and of commitment to the people with whom I share this garden of the earth.  Someone asked me a few weeks back if we were planning to move when we retired.  My answer was as it has been for some years now, "no- we've got a farm and grave lots." 

It is good to commit to a people and a place, and to belong.  Would that we all might discover the communities to which God is calling us; and in those places and among those people find contentment and peace.

Harvest Time at Briarwood

The temperature has dipped into the high fifties over the last few nights, and fall is just around the corner.  I don't usually work on Sundays after Church, but the peaches had to be picked today.  Rebecca baked fresh shortcake this afternoon from scratch, and we had a few of the peaches on the same for supper tonight.  Tomorrow, she will make more pies for the freezer.  Tomorrow morning, I will be picking Concord grapes.  They are at their peak now, and the scent is wonderful as we walk by the small vineyard on the way to the barn.  Saturday was tomatoes again, and I believe Rebecca put up another 21 pints of maranara sauce.  We will soon have enough to supply both ourselves and Tristan for the entire winter and through until next year's harvest is ready to process.  Apples and shell beans are just around the corner.

During the course of the drought this summer, an intermittent spring which had been dormant for several years reappeared just below the great apple tree below the summer kitchen.  After the corn is cut, when the deer move back into the woods, it should provide the perfect spot for hunting.  If all goes well, by thanksgiving we should have whitetail deer in the freezer.  I'm trying a new type of broadhead this year on the crossbow bolts www.ragebroadheads.com which is supposed to cut a much larger wound channel and produce a more humane kill.  Chuck and I are already making plans to shoot pheasants over Fat Leo the Labrador.  It would be nice to put ten or fifteen birds in the freezer this year for those special occasion meals.  The next time Tristan comes home from school, we have plans to dam the springs at the south end of the property in two locations, which should give us a significantly increased capacity for holding game locally.

The Roses this year have been beautiful, and seem to be holding their blooms well as the weather cools.  The Wisteria must have doubled or tripled in size on the arbors, and next year we have every reason to expect our first blooms.  The Russian Mammoth Sunflowers are in all of their glory, and should soon provide adequate forage for our many feathered friends.  It has been a good year in the garden, but we have had to water much to maintain it all.  The fall peas and spinach are started in pots and flats and will soon be ready for transplanting into the garden.  After the next paycheck, I plan to order commercial cold frames to install inside the greenhouse.  We should have cold weather crops well into January, and then it will be time to start tomatoes and peppers  and cabbage again for next year's harvest. 

My one disappointment this year was the hydrophonics system that I used to try and extend the lettuce and spinach season into July.  The spinach fared poorly, and although the lettuce seemed to start well, the heat proved to be too much, even when the direct afternoon sun was blocked.  Next year will see the experiment repeated with a bit of tweaking.  Perhaps it will go better the second time around.

It is good to live in this place and to experience the rolling of the seasons.  They are so predictable, and yet each is so unique, and they do bring joy to my heart.

Spiritual Lessons From Tools

Fiskars Bypass Pruning Shears

Last week, my trusty old pair of bypass pruners bit the dust.  After several years of very hard service maintaining trails, keeping runaway roses in check, and cleaning up garden refuse, a small but essential metal projection broke, and upon closer examination, I found the shears to be unrepairable.  I made a trip to the garden store and was amazed by the plethora of gadgets aimed at the American gardening public.  After a few minutes of searching through oversized handles and goofy colors, I found just what I needed, an unadorned and well built set of ambidextrous bypass pruners (pictured above.) 

By the time I arrived back at Briarwood, wife Rebecca was on her way down the long gravel drive to pick up a pizza for supper.  Since I had a few minutes, I decided to try out my new pruners on the overgrowth along the fencerow that parallels the drive.  It was slow going, but each cut was a pleasure which led me to the next.  The balance and mechanism were wonderful, and by the time Rebecca arrived home, I had managed to trim about twenty feet of fenceline.  That leaves just a bit over five hundred feet to do!

In years past, I've pruned that fencerow with electric hedge trimmers.  It always managed to look even and fresh, but it always seemed like a job to be done.  I cannot remember a time when it was a pleasure.  But now, with my Fiskars Bypass Pruning Shears, it was an event- an opportunity to know the farm a bit more intimately.  The slow rythem of the job allowed me to see every bird's nest, to find every honey locust sapling and clip it at the base before it punctured a tire- or worse, a shoe sole.  I noticed the snake skin where it had been shed by its owner earlier in the year, and the slowly decaying skull from some past deer hunt.  It became my choice how far to trim back the sassafras limb peeking through the honeysuckle, and whether or not to leave the wild rose intact for next spring's blooms.  The machine was no longer in control, but I was. 

I've been out twice since that initial outing with my new shears.  The work is a lot slower, but it is much more satisfying.  It is not so much about getting the job done quickly anymore.  Rather it is about the experience of maintaining this little piece of Eden that God has placed into my care.  At the end of the day, I suppose that is something of a parable for life.  We get caught up so readily in measuring our accomplishments that we miss the joy of the job itself.  Perhaps it would be better if we could take the time to enjoy our journey a bit more and concentrate less upon the destiniation.

Oh yes, my thanks go out to the engineers at Fiskars.  You have built a wonderful tool which is a joy to use.

The Eve of the feast of St. Mary Magdaline

Today has been a wonderful day.  After a quick round of chores at the barn, I showered and drove to Mingo Lodge in Logan for a planning meeting of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry.  It was good to see old friends and to share ideas for the coming year.  The theme for the day was building character and virtue in the lives of the members of our fraternity.  Such a positive time together was a welcome relief from some of the events of the past couple of weeks.

I returned home to check my e-mail and find this wonderful picture of my grand-daughters, Margaret and Helen, taking their snack together.   Then it was out into the garden to pick tomatoes and peaches and cucumbers, some of which made a delightful lunch.  At about 3:30, Tristan called just to say hi.  It was good to hear him sounding so happy and contented.  I think his carefree joy has something to do with some girls he met from Austria.  It is so good to see him experiencing civilian joys in peace and safety.

Then Rebecca and I drove up for Vespers with our friends at Holy Cross Carpathian Orthodox Church in Columbus.  Sometimes it is good to meet God from the perspective of a layman.  Then we finished out the day by eating at "Chick Fil A," as much as a political and moral statement as anything else, but their food is good. (see http://m.bpnews.net/bpnews.asp?id=38271 if you need some background on the company and the controversy surrounding them.)

From there it was just home, chores (all eight Speckled Sussex Hens laid an egg today!), some time with Scott's "Fair Maid of Perth" and a wee dram of Sherry on the porch surrounded by the dogs, and now it is almost time for bed.  Such an Eve of the Feast of St. Mary Magdaline I cannot remember!

PS: for those who may wonder, Squirt the Shetland Pony has completely recovered from her brush with founder and is back on pasture with her friend Princess, the Thoroughbred-Arab Cross.

What Really Matters

General Convention is now over for three more years.  There were some things that saddened me greatly, like the legislative attempts to legitimize scripturally prohibited behaviour by authorizing a liturgy of blessing for same sex relationships, and the several resolutions and canonical changes designed to accept transexual and transgendered behaviour in the church.  More angered me, such as the endorsements of domestic and foreign political movements, and the pronouncements on technology and social organization, any of which might be acceptable for a Christian to hold, but then the opposing political opinions might also be legitimate for a Christian to hold in the eyes of Scripture.  I will never understand why any religious body endorses political or theological opinions upon which the teachings of Scripture are not clear and decisive.   It only drives people away from the Church and the life giving sacraments which are her's to distribute to God's faithful people. There were a couple of bright points, both of which were supported by our bishop, Bishop Breidenthal.  I was glad to see some tenative steps taken to break up or restructure the authority of the National Church hierarchs, although I am doubtful the resolutions will fully answer to their promise.  The one shining example of faith and doctrine to come out of General Convention was the decision by the House of Bishops (accepted reluctantly by the House of Deputies) to affirm the ancient Christian doctrine that Holy Baptism in the Name of the Trinity is the necessary introduction to the Eucharistic Meal.  But if past history is any guide, the question will arise again in three years, and again after that until the representative democracy of the Episcopal Church manages to change even this most ancient of doctrines.  Such is the curse of modern Protestantism.

But that is all in the past now.  Those who favor the changes and resolutions will point to them again and again, and a few will use them to bully those who disagree.  More will ignore what they do not like and blandly repeat the mantra that resolutions are non-binding, and that the canonical changes only acknowledge what is already going on in some places.  A few will leave, but most of the folks who would leave are already gone, along with over a million others in the last 25 years or so.

But the things that really matter in my life are of a different nature.  I spent yesterday at the barn with Squirt, the Shetland pony.  The heat has been oppressive to this little gal, and as ponys are wont to do in extended heat, she began to founder.  Founder is a dreadful condition, which at it's worst can cause the bones of the lower leg to drive through the sole of the hoof.  Fortunately, we caught this case early.  We walked her and kept her up all day, cooled her feet off with cold water from the hose, and the vet came and administered bute, one of those wonder drugs for which horsemen are so thankful in this modern era.  She is fine now, resting in her stall with daily bute applications, hoof cooling soaks, knee deep straw bedding, and no grain until the middle of next week.

And today was Margaret's fourth birthday.  Grammy and I got to skype with her, Momma, and sister Helen tonight.  It is such a blessing to see this small person grow into all that God has created her to be, and every moment spent with her and her sister, electronically or in person, reminds us how blessed of God we truly are.

Church today was full of friends, friends who walked the extra distance occasioned by the annual downtown Corvette show, which took most of our regular parking places.  As I looked across the congregation, I saw folks I baptised and married, whose loved ones I buried, and with whom I had shared the joys and sorrows of this life.  One of the great joys of my life is being able to minister in a single region for so long, first as a professor, then as a prison and military chaplain, and finally as a parish priest.  There is for me a very real sense of belonging here, and for that I give thanks every day.

In the grand scheme of things, what really matters are the relationships that God has given me in the here and now.  Many things on the world stage can aggravate me with regularity, and have the potential to change my life unalterably, but those things which really matter are closer to home.  In this place, I have found contentment, and purpose, and a sense of the living presence of the true God.  How could I ever in good conscience allow those things of the broader world to distract me from the blessings all around me?  It just wouldn't be right.

Peace Amidst the Unexpected

This is not a picture of innocence
Rumbling Thunder, aka "Squirt" as a four year old

There are two rules that country folks take for granted:
1. Good fences make good neighbors.
2. Always close the gate.

As Rebecca and I have developed Briarwood (our home) over the last fifteen or so years, we have tried to be very careful about fencing, but even the best fences cannot do their job if you leave gates open.  Earlier this week, I opened the back gate to the main production plot on the west side of the barn to water the tomatoes, spinach, turnips, potatoes, horseradish, sunflowers, cucumbers, squash, and beans planted there.  From there, I pulled the hose to another location and hooked it into a drip irrigation system and went back to the house. 

When I got home from Columbus later that evening, I noticed that the gate was jammed open against the end of the chicken coop.  I had given her an inch and she had taken a mile.  Squirt had wedged herself between the rail fence and the edge of the barn, managed to make the turn into the production patch in spite of the closeness of the chicken coop to the gate, and proceeded to eat about a third of a row of beans.  She must not have liked them, because then she reversed her location and left without trampling anything else, and when I got home was waiting to come back into the barn for her evening ration of oats and sweet feed. 

When I was a younger man, I probably would have gotten mad, but now I am old, and so I just laughed, replanted the beans, and gave my lovely old pony her grain, along with a bit of a curry.  After all, the mistake was mine.  She was only doing what instinct and curiosity and lack of supervision dictated that she do. 

Very few things in this life are as important as I thought they were when I was younger.  I want to bring a bit of beauty to this place where God has put me.  I want to encourage people to experience the wonders of liberty responsibly and in a manner which is pleasing to God.  I want to live in a way which will encourage my children and grandchildren to want to follow Jesus and get to heaven.  I want to spend every day God gives us with my wife. 

From time to time, other ponies break into the garden of my life and make a bit of a mess of things.  I've found it best just to find the humor in it all, make the necessary corrections that I can control, and move on to do what needs to be done.  It is a formulae for contentment in life.

And next time, I'll remember to close the gate!

Rules for Christians in a Political Season

Rector’s Rambling-June 2012

We are in the midst of a political season, both in the church and in the state. This summer, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church will meet in Indianapolis to debate issues and pass resolutions which will be misunderstood by many, held to be prophetic by some and un-godly by others, and ignored by far more. In November, the people of the United States will elect a president, a congress, and one third of the US Senate. The process and its results will be misunderstood by many, hailed as an answer by some and mourned as the end of the world by others, and life will go on in some form for most of us. In the mean time, many of us will have conducted ourselves in ways which will divide us from friends, hurt the feelings of many, and effectively shut down the probability of real communication between people for some time to come. Politics can be a ruthless game. If we accept the practices of many and allow ourselves to believe that “the ends justify the means,” or that we must “win at any cost,” we break our covenant as Episcopalian Christians to “respect the dignity of every human being.”

In this month’s Rector’s Rambling, I offer some ideas for civil discourse that just might help us to preserve our friendships and lay the groundwork for ongoing cooperation between people of differing views. This list is of course incomplete, but I pray that it will help us to think twice before speaking once, and help us to develop a framework for peaceful co-existence and mutual respect.

1. Keep your language respectful. Tone can mean as much as words when we speak of others. I once knew a cleric who referred to a former bishop as “_______, our Bishop” when she was upset with him. The form, drawn from the prayers of the people, is perfectly respectful, but as she used it, it was filled with scorn. I would suggest never speaking of the principals in the debates which surround us with adjectives or by employing their first names. The phrase “President Obama,” or “Governor Romney,” or “Bishop Jefferts-Schori” can be delivered in a respectful tone which is much more rational and healing than “Barry,” or ”That Mormon,” or “Herself.” When we start with a pejorative or with mocking, there is no real possibility that respectful and rational discussion of the issues will follow.

2. Check your facts and stick to the facts which are relevant to the issue being discussed. Far too many people are too quick to forward or tweet or post to my-space. The result is that at best inaccuracies are spread, and at the worst, vicious lies are circulated. The commandment is clear that we are forbidden to bear false witness against our neighbor. Forwarding false things is breaking the ninth commandment. It must be repented of and correction must be made if we value our souls. Verify your facts and state them as part of a clearly reasoned argument. Believe half of what you hear or read, about a quarter of what you see, and delete anything which constitutes a personal attack on anyone. As inspector Joe Friday used to say on Dragnet, “Just the facts ma’am.”

3. Insist that your conversations be limited to issues and verifiable facts. If someone starts attacking a person without evidence or if they jump from factoid to factoid or issue to issue in a way which excites emotion without addressing substance rationally, say something like, “I really don’t want to get involved in this kind of discussion. I’d be glad to discuss a single issue at a time with you after we have both had a chance to marshal and verify our facts.” It may seem rude at first, but it will preserve more friendships and enable more good citizenship (and more good churchmanship) than just going along with what most people do.

4. Avoid the talking head shows on both left and right. They set a tone of loudness and a precedent of talking over each other which debases public discourse. Don’t let them be your example of how to argue or debate.

5. Beware any speaker who employs sophistic rhetorical tricks over well reasoned and organized arguments. Such people are often expert at moving the heart, but they seldom inform the mind. Their method has been regularly employed by demagogues and tyrants throughout history. This is not to say that a good debater should not try to move the heart, but he or she ought always to appeal to reason over emotion. To do otherwise is merely to incite the mob.

6. Never cast the person with whom you disagree as “evil.” There are evil people in the world, who after a pre-meditated fashion seek to dominate or hurt others. Most people do not fall into that category. Be willing to give your political adversary the benefit of the doubt for the sake of a respectful argument. Once you have called them evil, or assumed them to be so, your relationship is probably over forever, as is the real possibility of your living together successfully.

I hope these suggestions will help us all to survive yet another political season, and to fulfill our covenant made with each other before God that we will “Respect the dignity of every human being.”

Faithfully,

Bill+

A Perfect Weekend

The weekend began Friday evening with a casual dinner at the Pub with my Cousins from Cladaugh Council #86, Knight Masons- Irish Constitution.  After a wonderful board with pipe and whistle music to mark St. Patrick's Day, we repaired to the Lodge and conferred the Babylonian Pass on one candidate.  The courage and steadfastness of Zerrubabel and the other Jewish Captives as they sought to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem has always inspired me, and this night was no exception.  We then returned to the pub for convivial fellowship and plenty of time to renew old friendships and make new ones.

Saturday Morning began early at Lancaster Chapter #11, Royal Arch Masons.  Two candidates received the Royal Arch Degree, one of the most sublime in Masonry, and for a change, I was priviledged to sit on the sidelines and see the degree in its entireity.  It was a grand opportunity to reconsider my own dedication to God, and to consider those things that are truly important in life.

The afternoon brought several hours in the garden with my beautiful wife Rebecca.  I divided siberian Irisis and lined the lower north walkway with these diminutive and beautiful plants while Rebecca planted primrose along the east walks as a transition to the conical boxwoods which define our grand-daughters' secret garden.

The evening found me clad in saffron kilt with bottle green socks and tie and day wear jacket at the home of good friends Steve and Camille for their annual Irish dinner.  Beef pie, taties, cabbage and corned beef, lamb, garden peas, and desserts to die for filled the board, and the evening was finished off with cigars and Irish malt, and discussions of faith and fraternity with our hosts and friends Danny and Julie.  Such an evening spent with fellow Anglicans and Freemasons was both uplifting and inspiring.  I returned home with peace in my heart towards all men.

On Sunday morning I preached twice, and on this fourth sunday of Lent considered the life and ministry of Archbishop Rowan Williams, who announced his resignation from the see of Canterbury this week.  While I disagreed with this good man on many things, I have always found in his life and ministry real inspiration and challenge.  In what many might consider this most difficult time for our Communion, he sought to keep us together while providing safe havens for minority faith communities within the communion.  He attempted to lead us into a rational and loving structure which would define our faith and make us more accountable to each other.  And he sought to defend the historic faith received against what at times seemed overwhelming cultural odds.  His gentle counsels were often rejected by those who might have profited the most from hearing them.  I wish him the best as he re-enters the academic life.

After Church, Rebecca and I joined Bill and Nancy, friends and parishoners for a lovely breakfast at Shaw's Restraunt across the street from the church.  The eggs Benedict were splendid, and the asparagus was perfectly steamed.  The conversation strayed from ++Cantaur to the Parish Gardens to the Iraqi Rowing Team, for which Bill is an advisor.  My soul was refreshed by the good work and beauty that surrounds me.

From lunch, we went to the Funeral Home to pay our respects to Jan, the sister of our friend Carole.  Her illness was long and terible and now she is at peace.  Even in times of loss, it is good to see a family where love is so evident in the lives of all.

The day concluded with Choral Evensong at St. John's.  Our choir was joined by choristers from Trinity Newark, St. Paul's Logan, and Holy Cross Carpathian Orthodox Church in Columbus.   The setting, including the Mag and Nunc, was composed by Kathy Heim,  our Choir mistress, and one of the featured hymns was written by Thurlow Weed, our Organist.  To hear the people of so many parishes gathered in worship employing their own original compositions truly gave me a deeper understanding of liturgy as the work of the people.  As we gathered for a light lenten repast in the undercroft, I gave thanks again for God's soverign decision to post me to this place at this time.

I came home to relax on the back porch with a gin and tonic and a bowl of MacBaren's Navy Flake.  The dogs and I watched the lightening show for the better part of an hour and a half, and now we have all retired to the chapel/study to share the weekend with you, my gentle readers.  It is good to dwell in such a place and with such people.  I pray that all who read this post might find such joy in the realities of your own lives.  Surely God is among us here, and we are a people blessed. 

Ah, Spring!

The Gateway to Paradise: A Garden Entrance at Briarwood Last Spring

After an unusually mild winter, spring seems to have come early to Fairfield County. It has been accompanied by what the ancients would have considered to be powerful omens. Jupiter and Venus have been profoundly beautiful as they danced together in the western sky over the past few weeks. Mars is ascending steadily in the east, and friends who are not as distracted by city lights as we are here at Briarwood tell me that Saturn is clearly visible on the eastern horizon. Last night, a mighty thunderstorm struck after mid-night and the counties to our east and southeast experienced flooding and reported tennis ball sized hail. I really don’t know what to make of it all, and I don’t put much stock in omens, but the passing of winter this year has been spectacular.

Daffodils and Narcissi bloom profusely in the cutting garden, and the greenhouse literally bulges with young spring plants awaiting their final transplanting into the garden. The propagators have been working overtime, and are currently populated by tomatoes, peppers, and second plantings of lettuces, cabbages, and greens. Hopefully, next week I will be able to till the garden plots, set the trellises, and plant garden peas. Potatoes are also in our future. About half of the plot will be grown in containers filled with straw, a little experiment I’ve contemplated for several years, but never gotten around to managing. Over the weekend, parsnips, turnips, kohlrabi, and beets should get their starts in the propagators. I’ll plant a few more than we can use, because the chickens seem to like them (but then the chickens seem to like about everything!)

Speaking of chickens, my beautiful flock of eight Speckled Sussex hens is now presenting me with six to seven eggs a day. They are overseen by Chanticleer, a monstrously mean, but dashingly handsome rooster of the same breed. Sussex hens tend to be pretty broody, so as the year advances, I’ll let one of the girls hatch out some chicks. We will keep two or three as replacements, and donate the rest to the Common Friars in Athens.

The pastures have greened considerably in the last two days, and as always, it is good to see our old horses, Princess and Squirt, enjoying their retirement. A bit more gaunt and swaybacked than when they were in their prime, they are ever present reminders of when this farm rang with the laughter of children on a daily basis. The place would not be the same without them.

The trees are beginning to show signs of life, and it won’t be long until I will be able to sit on the porch with a pipe and a wee dram and hear the buds pop open in the woods. Even as I write, the air is filled with the deafening chorus of a plethora of peeper frogs. Just a few years ago, we were afraid that we had lost them, but this year and last they are back in all of their spring glory.

Briarwood is a blessed place to be any time of the year, but especially as the winter turns to spring. It is in a very real way an icon of that Heavenly City, which will one day come down as a bride adorned for her husband. Here is balance and harmony, plenty and peace. I pray Rebecca and I might be good stewards of this place that all who come here might be drawn into relationship with the maker of it all.

As I pen my goodbyes tonight, the terriers are curled up at my feet. Faithful Pat is in the woods running game, which is what all old hounds are paid to do. Might we all so employ our instincts that the Great Architect and Creator of the Universe be ever glorified! Amen.