Quasi Modo

This has been a morning full of online serendipity.

I've been doing some work for the General Assembly Committee on Representation that I used to serve on and wanted to check up on some facts before etching them into the proverbial stone of an informed opinion to be presented at our upcoming national meeting. I'll try to avoid the technical stuff, because some of it is technical, and just stick to the serendipity. Wish me luck!

First stop? The committee's staff person. I wanted to be certain that I had the names of our denomination's non-geographic presbyteries. We don't have a lot of them and they are primarily Korean language-oriented. Found out I'd missed one - a Native American presbytery that had been in existence since the 1800s.

That led the staff person to some beetle-tracking. She learned about the history of the presbytery and how it's managed to remain a non-geographic presbytery over the decades. Really interesting stuff and it speaks to how the Native Americans have interacted with the white culture, and shows how much we have to learn from them about diversity and relationship and "being one in Christ".

It won't change my approach to my particular project, exactly, but it has informed the task and overall work.

Next? A change of direction.

I decided to figure out what scripture I'm preaching on this Sunday. One of those "EEP! It's already Wednesday and I haven't even started yet!" moments.

So I wandered to one of my sermon prep sites. Because I hadn't been preaching from the lectionary, it had been a couple of weeks since I'd strolled that direction.

In case you aren't up on some of the historic liturgy, the Sunday after Easter used to be (and is now being reclaimed) Holy Hilarity or Holy Humor Sunday. A celebration of God's laughter at death through the resurrection of Jesus. I've never quite pulled it off on the Sunday after Easter, but have encouraged my congregations to give Holy Hilarity a try in the summer. (Not quite as Presbyterian-threatening then. *chuckle*)

And what pops up? Quasimodo Sunday!

I'd never heard of it! I'm still doing some online trolling to find actual liturgies, but I think it'd be interesting. I couldn't figure out how Quasimodo from The Hunchback of Notre Dame figured into the Sunday after Easter. Turns out that the name comes from the first two Latin words of the Roman Catholic introit for that Sunday found in 1 Peter 2: "Quasi modo geniti infantes" 'As if now we are newborn infants' (a free-range translation).

As if now ...

There's a lot in my life that is "as if now". Seems like a pretty good serendipitous place to be!

And the Sign Said ...

... Last Call Ministries. Opening Soon.

I've gone past this building on the road from Houston to Beaumont on and off for over 30 years. For most of that time, this building has been one of the local watering holes in one of the itty-bitty towns along the way. It's been closed for the last couple of years.

Now I'm scratching my head.

Is this going to be a new bar? Or a new church? Either way, it's an interesting twist.

... 40 Water Baptisms in 2009!

This was the computer sign on one of the local non-denominational churches. Usually they post the names of speakers and worship times.

Now I'm scratching my head.

Does that mean that there weren't any baptisms "with the Holy Spirit and with fire" (Matthew 3:11)? I'm in kind of an off-center mood and, although I recognize what the church is going for, can't help but wonder a couple of things: (1) does that mean that if they had baptisms with the Holy Spirit and with fire, that they didn't happen during worship? and (2) did they get the first baptism and miss out on the second?

Why not just joyously announce 40 baptisms? Does it truly matter which kind of baptism it is? Good old Peter was finally convinced that Gentiles were to be baptized with water after the Holy Spirit descended on Cornelius and those with him listening to Peter. After all, baptism is a gift from God, whichever version you have.

... Cowboy Worship. Come join us!

I was driving to preach at a church about an hour away from home one Sunday. As I came up to the county's livestock auction barn, there was a young boy on his Shetland pony, rigged out in full cowboy regalia. Next to him, holding the sign, was his father (most likely). And several individuals were meandering around, some on horseback, some afoot, ready to ride the range after worship.

No head scratching here! Just broad smiles, and wish that I could have stopped in and joined that horse-y crowd as they worshipped God and the gifts of sky and range and critters big and small.

And the sign said ...

Alleluia! Amen!

Weathercasting ...

... an inexact science.

This morning when I got up, I thought I'd check out the local forecast to plan out my day and the timing of the Penster stroll. Turned on The Weather Channel, just in time for Local on the 8s.

Current temperature - 68. Sunny. Local radar - big blob of rain slowly headed in the general direction of my house over the previous 3 hours, but not quite close enough to show up on the close in radar. Afternoon forecast? Abundant sunshine! HUH?

So I watched the Local on the 8s over the next couple of hours. Now that the storms are almost upon us, The Weather Channel has updated its forecast to "isolated thunderstorms with 30% chance of rain".

*chuckle* Great timing, guys!

Gray

It's a gray day today, with a light rain. Actually, it started turning gray late yesterday afternoon. Nothing too unusual about that here in southeast Texas. Gray, rainy days and southeast Texas seem to go together.

However, this week is Holy Week, when Christians recall the last week of Jesus' life.

Last Sunday was a bright, sunshine-y day. The weather couldn't have been better. Just perfect for the drive to the Houston area to preach that morning and then take a late afternoon ramble with the Penster. Not a bad day for a Palm Sunday.

Then yesterday, Maundy Thursday, about the time the Penster and I took our early evening ramble, the clouds began to gather and the sun began to go into hiding. Somehow I associate that kind of weather with Jesus and the disciples heading toward that Last Supper together. Kind of like even the weather is aware that something is about to happen.

Then today. Good Friday.

It's been pretty gray all day. I checked the Weather Channel and the radar showed no rain in the area. So the Penster and I started our (almost) daily stroll about 3pm. The gray sky began to toss some mist toward the ground, and now there's this light rain, not quite drizzle, falling steadily.

I realize that we're not on Jerusalem Daylight Savings Time around here, but having the gray and the rain and all reminds me of the dark, uncertain, waiting time that the disciples experienced on that Black/Good day long ago. They didn't know it was Good yet. All they knew was that their hopes seemed to have been placed on a cross and left to die a horrible death.

It seems singularly fitting to wait in the gray along with the disicples. I don't know what my personal future will hold, but then, neither did the disciples. These last months have been waiting, healing, preparing for a future unknown.

So for now the world is waiting in gray.

But I live in a time of already, but not yet, and trust that there will be an Easter of knowing and sunshine and hope.