The Last Email

It is difficult to describe the joy of the eastern Paschal celebration. After a long hard Lent, and after a heart-breaking Holy Week when the struggle against sin, the nearness of the Judgement, and the suffering and death of Jesus have been exposited through song, liturgy, poetry, ascetic acts, and scripture everything is washed away, or better, illumined in the white incandescent brilliance of Pascha. The darkness of Saturday is driven away as every candle is lit, and every door is opened, and black vestments are exchanged for white. Every bell rings loud and long as people cry out the good news in whatever language they know. The Greeks announce "Xristos Anesti!" While the Italians reply "In Verità è Risuscitato!" The Russians shout "Hristos Voskresee" and those of us who only know English reply "Indeed He is Risen! And the bishops priests and deacons are in constant motion hugging, kissing, censing the flock. And the Ethiopian women do that lululululululu thing that they do. (I lulululuv that!) And the choir leads us in the Troparion over and over again...

Christ is risen from the dead,
Trampling down death by death,
And upon those in the tombs
Bestowing life!

I can not even begin to describe the joy. But it just gets better and better. At a certain point the bishop, beaming, looks over his flock and says, "The catachetical homily of our father among the Saints, John Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople." And then he proceeds to read the following words to a room full of smiling weepy people...

"If any be pious and a lover of God, let him delight in this fair and radiant festival. If any be an honest servant, let him come in and rejoice in the joy of his Lord. If any have wearied himself with fasting, let him now enjoy the recompense. If any have worked from the first hour, let him receive today his just reward. If any have come after the third, let him feast with thankfulness. If any have arrived after the sixth, in no wise let him be in doubt; in no way shall he suffer loss. If any be later than the ninth, let him draw nigh, let him not waver. If any arrive only at the eleventh, let him not be fearful for his slothfulness, for the Master is munificent and receiveth the last even as the first; He giveth rest to him of the eleventh even as to him who hath wrought from the first hour. He is merciful to the last and provideth for the first; and to this one He giveth, and to that one He showeth kindness. He receiveth their labours and acknowledgeth the purpose, and He honoureth the deed and praiseth the intention. Wherefore, enter ye all into the joy of our Lord, and let the first and the second take part in the reward. Ye rich and ye poor, join hands together. Ye sober and ye heedless, do honour to this day. Ye who fast and ye who fast not, be glad today. The table is full: do ye all fare sumptuously. The calf is ample: let no one go forth hungry. Let all enjoy the banquet of Faith. Let all enjoy the wealth of righteousness. Let no one lament his poverty, for the Kingdom is made manifest to all. Let no one bewail transgressions, for forgiveness hath dawned forth from the tomb. Let no one be fearful of Death, for the death of the Saviour hath set us free. He hath quenched Death by being subdued by Death. He Who came down into Hell, despoiled Hell; and Hell was embittered when he tasted of Christ's Flesh. Esaias, anticipating this, cried out and said: Hell was embittered when below he met Thee face to face. He was embittered, for he was set at nought. He was embittered, for he was mocked. He was embittered, for he was cast down. He was embittered, for he was fettered. He received a body, and encountered God! He received earth, and met Heaven face to face! He received what he saw, and fell whither he saw not! O Death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory? Christ is risen, and thou art overthrown! Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen! Christ is risen, and the Angels rejoice! Christ is risen, and life doth reign! Christ is risen, and there is none dead in the tomb! For Christ is raised from the dead, and is become the first-fruits of them that slept. To Him be glory and dominion unto the ages of ages. Amen."

But like Christmas, Pascha is not over in a day. It is a season and at every service of the Divine Liturgy during Pascal-tide the eastern Christians (e.g. the Orthodox and the Byzantine Catholics) will sing what has become my favorite hymn.

The Angel cried to the Lady full of graceRejoice! Rejoice!
O pure Virgin!Again, I say rejoice!
Thy son is risen from His three days in the tomb!
With Himself He has raised all the dead.
Rejoice, rejoice, O ye people! Shine! Shine! Shine, O new Jerusalem!
The glory of the Lord has shown on thee.
Exult now, exult and be glad, O Zion.
Be radiant, O pure Theotokos,
In the Resurrection, the Resurrection of thy Son.

(Have a listen the the Choir of Holy Cross church in Linthicum, Maryland sing this hymn http://www.holycrossonline.org/media/20%20The%20Angel%20Cried.mp3)

I hope you have enjoyed these messages. This is the last you all will hear from me until Advent.

Christ is Risen!

Looks bad

Well, I'm not sure we are going to make it to the Paschal Divine Liturgy this year. Thusday night Basil was sick, so Cyndi stayed home with him. Friday morning, Anselm was sick, too. If we miss Pascha it will be par for the course. It has been a tough year. I think having kids ought to count as an ascetic endeavor.

In other news. Cyndi had the interview at AAU on Thursday. She didn't want the job.

Bells

Basil is sick so Athanasia stayed home with him. But Anselm and I went to Matins of the 12 Gospels at HTC Thursday night. It was served by 1 bishop, 3 priests, 1 deacon, 2 subdeacons, 2 readers, and a fabulous choir. And I got to ring the BIG bell for the Gospel readings. Once for the first reading, twice for the second reading, and so on. What that meant is that Anselm and I hung out in the bell tower for the whole service. Because I had to ring the bell at the right time I had to read along in a service book. One thing I notices is that we skipped the Prayer with Head Bowed. We also skipped most of the canon. I'll try to remember to ask someone why we skipped those parts.

We've lost the Paska Recipe

I am going to start working on the Paska later today. So Much of last night was spent looking for the recipe. I couldn't find it.

All I can remember are theese four things:
1) it called for farmers cheese
2) it called for grated boiled egg yolks
3) it called for raisins.
4) it has to be in the mold on wednesday night to be ready to take to church on Saturday night.


I searched all over the internet looking for something close. This is the closest I have come to finding my old recipe.

Ingredients: 18 - hard boiled eggs / 3 pounds Farmers cheese / 1 pint whipping cream / 3 cubes unsalted butter / 3 cups sugar /
Press the Farmers cheese through a sieve. (This is the hardest part of the recipe) I usually use a wooden spoon and press it through a wire strainer a little at a time. Separate the egg yolks from the whites. (You will not be using the whites). Press the egg yolks through the sieve. Cream the sugar and butter together. Beat in the egg yolks. Beat in the cheese. Add whipping cream and mix well. You will place the mixture into a strainer lined with about 3 layers of cheesecloth. You will need enough cheesecloth to wrap up and over the top of the cheese. Place the cheese mixture into the cheese cloth lined strainer. Bring the ends of the cheese cloth up and tie the ends on top of the cheese in a knot. Place the sieve into a larger bowl suspended with enough room for the cheese to drain without sitting in the drained liquid. Place a plate on top of the cheese an place a heavy rock, brick, or other weight on top of the plate. Refrigerate over night. ( From http://happywonderer.wordpress.com/2007/03/31/kulich-russian-easter-bread/ )

What recipe do you use?



UPDATE: I searched this blog and found the recipe I use. I love blogging!!! Its like filling a great big huge filing cabinet with notes on my life.

Lazarus Palms

This past weekend was really good, from my totally subjective point of reference. Saturday night vigil with my friend Jeff and his men went well. I got to the church at six but it took me 1/2 an hour to find parking. After that it went very well. After vigil I took them on a tour of the cathedral, introduced them to the choir director and one of the priests, showed them some of the relics. After that we walked up to Ginger and Wasabi for some Q&A. I was surprised by how few the questions were. Tey did ask about the differenes between Orthodox and Roman Catholic Marian dogma. This brougt up original sin. One of the men was surprised that we understand original sin differently that Roman Catholics and Protestants. I don't think the others knew exactly what I what I was talking about, but I didn't spend a lot of time explaining it because I don't knw how to explain it with out discussing the errors of St. Augustine and Anslem of Canterbury, and that would have taken too long. Overall, it was a good evening.

On Palm Sunday Dr. S made her traditional meal of baked salmon. I could smell the onions a block away from the cathedral. Very extremely yummy. It was announced that Bishop Benjamin will be with us from Holy Thursday through Pascha. Very happy about that. I haven't seen him since last Summer.

More on my life

I've been pulling some long nights getting ready for the "Tour of HTC". What I do is compile a book that contains introductions and explanations to all kinds of stuff in our Church. History, theology, custom... its in there. After the service I'll give each man a copy of the book and then we'll walk up the block to eat some sushi and do Q&A. I'd appreciate your prayers.

Today, while Basil was napping I taught Anselm the basics of chess. He caught on more quickly than I expected.

Cyndi is applying for and interviewing like crazy. There are two very intersting possibilities. One is at the Stanford GSB. They need someone to be in charge of placing their graduates in jobs. Its kind of a reverse recruiter position. The other job is even more exciting. She interviewed for a housing suoervisor job at AAU but very quickly she and the interviewer realized that she was way over-qualified. But two days later they called her back and told her they are creating a new position that manages, recruits, and trains all of the housing supervisors and asked Cyndi to meet with them next week. Needless to say, we have been having fantasies of moving back to SF, selling the car (have I mentioned that I hate having to drive everywhere?), walking to church, riding muni, spending Saturdays in Golden Gate Park....

Oh, Matt. Don't get too excited about someting that is only a maybe.

In other news, I have been told that something I wrote is going to be in Friday's edition of the Mountain View Voice. I can't wait to see how it was edited.

Mom

Today, like every Tuesday, was spent with my Mom. She is almost blind and doesn't drive anymore. The boys and I picked her up an drove her around on her various errands. We went to the drug store, the teacher supply store (she does the bulletin board at her church and needed some seasonal stuff for the border), we took her to our fave Indian restaurant, Grand India Buffet in Santa Clara, we went to the grocery store and the post office. She was too tired to get out of the car for these last two errands so she and the boys stayed in the car while I took care of her business. On most Tuesdays we also take her to the doctor. Thankfully, today we didn't have to do that. It was a really fun time with my Mom.

Two observations:
1. Teacher supply stores are really neat. I left there with all kinds of stuff: wall chart of constellations, wall charts detailing the cultural contributions of Greece and Rome, a first grade history of California with lots of cool pictures, 4 starter pencils (you know, the BIG ones from when you were in kindergarten), a book on phonics, and a kaliedescope.
2. If it were not for Indian and Thai restaurants I do not think I could make it through Lent.

6th Lenten Email

Below is the text of my 6th Lenten Email. I think I explained what these are in a prvious post but I am not sure. Every Lent and Advent I send out a series of emails to my non-Orthodox friends which, I hope, explain what I am doing and why. Most of them just think I am weird for trying to observe such a strict regimen, set down in a calendar that most regard as rank legalism. So, I try to show them what Lent and Advent are really about. I'm not sure I succeed, but I still try. Anyway, below is the email I sent this morning.

----


I don't know if you read the Washington Times or not, but if you read it last month perhaps you read the series titled "Killing Eve". It was horrific. Here is an excerpt:

"Kavita Srivastava, a local lawyer and general secretary for the human rights organization People's Union for Civil Liberties, said it's no surprise so many doctors in Jaipur are guilty [of aborting female babies].

"The status of women is already low here because of the feudal Rajput culture," she said, referring to the former ruling caste. "There are traditions in Rajasthan of women committing johar which is mass suicide or sati where a widow throws herself onto her husband's funeral pyre. A woman's entire identity was subsumed by her husband. If he died, so must she."
Women who committed sati would have temples built in their honor, she added, and palaces in Rajasthan commonly have a wall displaying the last hand prints women left before they died. . . . In Rajasthan's violent desert culture, baby girls were drowned in boiling milk or abandoned in a sand dune. Whole villages went decades without female children."

But before we begin condemning Oriental societies we should remember that women in the west were treated little better. Demosthenes mentioned the state of women in his own classical European society: "We have whores for our pleasure, concubines for daily physical use, wives to bring up legitimate children and to be faithful stewards in household matters." And archaeologists have uncovered Roman brothels where the drains were full of skeletons of strangled babies. Even childbirth, given for the salvation of women (I Tim. 2:15) had been turned into an opportunity to commit evil and negate the good thing God had planned for women.

Every year, during Lent when we mourn for our sins we also remember when God decided to lift the head of a woman. On Sunday, March 25, exactly nine months before Christmas, is the Feast of the Annunciation. On this day God elevated a woman so high that the Orthodox rightly bless her as "More honorable than the Cherubim, and more glorious beyond compare than the Seraphim" for she held in her body One greater than the universe. When she said to Archangel Gabriel "Let it be according to thy word" she became the temple and throne of God. She became the mother of God. And in becoming his mother she became the mother of the Church. (Warning! Logic follows. If she is Jesus' mother, and the Church is his body, it follows that she is the mother of the Church.)

But she is not the temple, throne, and mother of God for her own benefit. What kind of mother only cares about herself? She wants for us what God wants, which is the best possible thing. She wants us to be temples of God, too. We can follow her as she follows Christ. Just as she said, "Let it be according to thy will" we can say "Thy will be done". In its essence, this is the goal of Lent and all of Christian life; training our weak and misshapen wills to align with Gods will.

One person who achieved that goal was St. Mary of Egypt. Without going into too much detail, the Orthodox have 5 different cycles of readings, hymns, music, commemorations, feasts, and fasts that do not line up the same way twice very often. I've been told we only do the same exact service twice every 400 years. This year, the Feast of the Annunciation and the Sunday of St. Mary of Egypt fall on the same day. But unlike the Mother of God, St. Mary of Egypt was the farthest thing from a virgin. She was a prostitute. But hers was not the kind of cold-hearted money-obsessed behavior one normally associates with prostitutes. Rather, she was a pathetic creature who, if she were on earth today, would be thought of as a sex addict. But one day she appealed to Mary the Mother of God for help, and her prayer was answered. She disappeared into the Jordanian desert where she remained for many years living a life of repentance. When she was next seen she had been transformed. She had become a temple of God. (If you want to read her whole but rather short story you can

Food

Depending on how it is appraised, this has been the worst Lent since I became Orthodox. The only part of the fast I have kept perfectly is the alcohol part. And wouldn't you know, the the foods with which I've broken the fast have been yucky fast food when I was just trying to get the kids to stop whining (Anselm) and crying (Basil)? I think that this might be my least favorite thing about being a parent. The boys just do not have the patience to go shopping, come home and put away the groceries, and then wait for me to fix a nice meal. And I am usually not thoughtful enough to buy snacks. So for those reasons, but essentially, it is just poor planning, I have broken the fast several times at the Burger King drive-through window. And then there are the prayers. My prayer life has totally sucked all through this Lent. I think I've only done "evening prayers" 3 or 4 times in the last month. I've only done Vespers at home one time. I've only done Matins at home once. And I still have a kitchen of dirty dishes, and two boys who need to be taken to the park, and laundry all before vigil tonight. But thank God for Vigil. Just the thought of it makes me happy and even now I am weeping at the thought of being backwhere I belong. I am so homesick for that rite, the God I meet there.

Well, this post was supposed to be about food. Particularly, it was supposed to be about the prospect of eating salmon after Liturgy of the Annunciation tomorrow and somehow I was going to tie it in with this collection of foodie-book reviews in the Wall Street Journal. But it didn't turn out that way.

Anselm's Birthday

Today is Anselm's birthday. At 7:40 a.m. he delivered made from scratch german chocolate cupcakes to our upstairs neighbors. (I'm sure they appreciated it. We have a pretty good relationship with them.) Then he rode the train to the City We Love with Mommy. They got of the train and rode the N-Judah * from the station at 4th and King to Emarcadero Station. Then they played in the fountain at Justin Herman Plaza. Then they rode the historic F-Line to Peir 39. At Peir 39 they boarded a Blue and Gold and took a cruise around the bay, even going under the Golden Gate Bridge. After their cruise they went to Barnes and Noble about 2 blocks away from Peir 39 and waited for me and Basil. (We were held up in traffic. Bad accident on 101.) Then we all went to the Randall Museum. The honey bee exhibit is very cool. Then we had dinner food at our fave (and also very inexpensive) Thai resturaunt, Mali Thai near the corner of Guerrero and 16th Street. Then we drove home. It was a fun. And Anselm is now five years old. It has been a fast five years. I hope they slow down a little.

*About 10 years ago, when I was working in SF but living in Sunnyvale with my friends George and Aaron, I missed the last train south. That meant I was stranded in San Francisco with very little no money and nowhere to stay the night. I took a bus from the train station to Ghirardilli Square, and from there walked to the youth hostel next door the O-Club at Fort Mason. They had no open beds as it was about 1 in the morning. As I was walking away I noticed a skinny black girl with short dredlocks following me. I said, "You need a place to stay tonight, too?"
"Yes"
"Well, you can come with me. I am going to check out two more hostels and then maybe some flop house hotels."
Everything was full. Well, the flop house hotels weren't full, but they they wouldn't rent a room for one night, they wanted a weeks rent. So, I had the idea of sitting on the N-Judah Owl for the rest of the night, since it would be safer, warmer, and more comfortable, than walking the streets all night.
We got on the bus about 2 a.m. And that is when I asked her her name. "I'm an angel", she said.
"Your name is Angel?"
"No. You heard me right. I'm an angel."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"Where are you going when the sun comes up?"
"With you."
"Oh. Well, I'm going to catch the first train to Sunnyvale."
"I am, too."

The bus driver was very kind and let us ride all night as he went back and forth. We dozed as much as possible until day light. A couple of times I woke up at the far western end of the route, on top of a hill, and could see all of downtown spread out before me and then the darkness of the bay and Oakland on the other side of the darkness. It was beautiful.

At daylight caught a different bus to the train station and boarded the first train to south. The girl/angel had no money so I bought her a ticket. I fell into a deep sleep. At our stop she woke me up and we walked to where I lived.

When we got there I think I remember giving her a bowl of ceral and a peanut butter sandwich. While she was eating I put a blanket and a pillow on the couch for her and went to bed. I woke up hous later, walked into the living room and she was asleep on the couch. I kept trying to figure out if she was an angel or a girl. Eventually, I decided to touch her to find out. But I didn't want to wake her up so I thouched one of her dreadlocks to see if it felt human or angelic. I had never touched a dreadlock before so I was not able to discern whether or not she was an angel or a girl.

A couple of hours later she woke up. We ate some more (pasta with garlic and olive oil, I think.) and then I had to go back to SF to go to work at Williams-Sonoma where I worked closing shift. We rode north on the train together but didn't talk. When we got off the train she thanked me for the train rides, the couch, the food. And then she said, "It was wrong to touch my hair."

A uke worth listening to

I've heard a lot of ukulele in my life but never like this.

Conservapedia

I heard about a thing called the conservapedia while listening to the radio (loudly since I seem to have lost quite a bit of my hearing.) Thursday and have been re-writing the article on Salvation. It still needs a lot of work.

I doubt Conseravapedia will last long, or get many users if the article I deleted is typical. I think that the people behind conservapedia would be more successful in changing society by shutting down conservapedia and getting more conservatives to write wikipedia articles.

5th Lenten Email

In the church where I grew up they had things called testimony services. Essentially, every one took turns standing up and telling how how they were converted. Once, in Jamaica I was in one of these services when a very old woman stood up and began her testimony with thses lines from Amazing Grace

Through many dangers toils and trials
I have already come
'Tis grace that's brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home.

But she kept going taking a verse from this hymn and a verse from that hymn, giving her testimony in the words of those who went before her. And at a certain point people started quoting the words with her. She would get the first two or three words out and then she would be joined by two thousand other voices.

After this had been going on for a while and every eye was wet with tears she paused, pointed to the sky, raiesed her voice and said...

That Word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God's truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.

Then she began to sing a Jamaican hymn, and we all sang with her...

I feel like pressing my way
I feel like pressing my way
I'm on my way to heaven and
I feel like pressing my way.

Of course, what that very old woman did was give not only her testimony, but the testimony of everyone in that room. That is why I love Lent, when more than any other time we are encouraged to read the lives of God's Holy Ones. Throughout the ages the struggle has remained about the same. And if we fight the good fight, our testimony can be the same as theirs. Of those, one of my favorites is celebrated tomorrow. His given name was Patricius but we all know him as Patrick. His testimony, in his own words is on the other side of this link: http://www.cin.org/patrick.html It makes me feel like pressing my way.

Evolutionary Biology

Would I be a better surgeon if I assumed that the brain arose by random events? Of course not. Doctors are detectives. We look for patterns, and in the human body, patterns look very much like they were designed. (read the rest)

A Bunch of Stuff

We've decided to go back to HTC. We like St. Stephen's a lot, but there are so many people that it is difficult to be comfortable with our children in the way we are accustomed. At HTC we feel free to walk around and let the boys venerate the Holy Icons if they start to get fidgety. But that just isn't possible at St. Stephens. It is wall to wall people. I guess that is a good problem for a parish to have, but it does make it dificult. So, we are going back to HTC, and the very long drives on Sundays.

But what about the problem of missing so much church? Well, we discovered that the distance from San Francisco isn't the problem. It is our schedules that hinder us. Those schedules did not allow us to attend St. Stephen's much more often than we attended HTC. Hopefully, our schedule will lighten up in about another 16 months.

The boys and I went to the beach yesterday. We had a lot of fun. It was cold but the beach and the sea were beautiful. After being there for a while we drove to the little village of Capitola-by-the-Sea where we had a great time.

I think I mentioned in a previous post that my entire family was sick a couple of weeks ago. Well, we still are. Not the kids, just Cyndi and I. Cyndi has been left feeling exhausted and still has a cough. I still have a cough and have lost some hearing. It is troublesome.

Speaking of troublesome, a few months ago my wife did a lateral transfer in her department so she could work for a very highly respected and much experienced person in the department. But ever since the transfer happened she has been miserable. Cyndi is used to working with a high degree of independece and managing her team the way she likes. But her new boss has a very different style. The result is that my wife's employees are very unhappy and my wife is very unhappy. Last night, Cyndi came home in tears. Friday (tomorrow) my wife is meeting with her boss's boss to talk about the problem and ask for a different position in the department. If you have a chance, please pray for her. Her patron is the Venerable Athanasia of Egypt.

My friend Jeff, with whom I used to blog is comming over for lunch today. Menu: cioppino, hummus, pita-bread, pickled mixed-beans, dolmas, coffee, and San Peligrino. We are going to talk about a group of men from his Church who are going to visit HTC on the 31st. Jeff is the pastor in charge of finding men who have leadership potential and grooming them. Part of that process is a one year course of study during which they visit lots of different kinds of churches. This is the second year that I am giving a his group a tour of HTC and explaining Holy Orthodoxy to them.

My oldest son has been in Afghanistan for a few days now. I haven't heard anything. So, I am super happy about him getting to fight in Afghanistan instead of Iraq, but I am still anxious. Does anyone hate war as much as a parent. I thank God he is with such a tough outfit. They aren't the kind of men civilized people would want to hang out with, but they are good in a scrap. It seems that the last time the 173rd Airborne Infantry Brigade was in Afghanistan they killed more than than 3,000 enemy fighters in their first week, while suffering very few casualties. Lots of the people in my sons unit are veterans of that first deployment to Afghanistan and know what to expect and how to fight this enemy. That is comforting to me. I told him to kill anyone who even looks like an enemy and come home alive, but I am so afraid for him because of the horrible things he will see and have to do. Sometimes all I can do is cry and pray.

Obama Homiletics

I'm sure you have all read Sen. Obama's (D.-Ill.) speech by now. And I know you have heard people make much of the fatherhood beginning at conception part of it. And you are probably already aware of the historical inaccuracies (the time lines of his parents courtship and the march in Selma do not match up as he infers they do) in the speech. Nevertheless, this speech is a superb piece of political rhetoric, and I'd like to point out a few of the things that make it so great. (I don't vote for pro-aborts or collectivists so I can't vote for him. But I do think his speechwriter is very very good.)

Intro to the Speech
1. He begins by thanking the host and acknowledging the living and dead heroes of the civil rights movement. THis is part of getting the audience on his side. Very very important.

2. He manages expectations by noting his own discomfort at having to follow so many great preachers.

3. He evokes the memory of Abraham Lincoln, the first Republican President in an attempt to draw in people who might oppose him.

4. He delivers greetings from the deservedly famous Rev. Moss and Dr. Wright to the people at Brown Chapel AME Church, thereby showing them that "he's one of us". But he uses this greeting to segue into the main body of his speech and the theme of the Moses and Joshua. It is a beautiful and organic transition.


The Great Theme of the Speech

1. He mentions those who went before having endured many difficulties, some even giving their lives for the cause of civil rights (FYI: the group of rights that in post-WWII America are called civil rights are not only what past ages thought of as civil rights, but also include political and legal rights.) in his phrasing we hear echoes of the famous passage of Hebrewes 11 where St. Paul describes the sufferings of the Old Testament Prophets. This taps directly into the emotions of his church-going audience.

2. Then from "enduring" he moves into marching, building a sense of expectation through successive paragraphs each including the phrase "because they marched"

"And so because of what they endured, because of what they marched; they led a people out of bondage."
"And it's because they marched that the next generation hasn't been bloodied so much. "
"...because they marched that we elected councilmen..."
"It is because they marched that we have..."
"...because they marched that I got the kind of education I got, a law degree, a seat in the Illinois senate and ultimately in the United States senate. "
"It is because they marched that i stand before you here today."

(I didn't hear the speech but son of a peneecostal preacher in me sure hopes he puched the word marched every time he said it.)


3. He reaches out to the Democratic Party martyrs, Sen. Robert Kennedy and Pres. J.F. Kennedy and effectivly enlists them as his supporters by tying them to African liberation and his own opportunity to come to the United States.

4. He evokes not only the memory of the Holy Prophet Moses when he says of him "he didn't cross over the river to see the Promised Land" but also the memory of Martin Luther King Junior who said, "And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!" (I've Been to the Mountaintop, Apr. 3. 1968)


What He Sees as the work of the "Joshua generation" (This is where I thought the speech almost but not quite broke down.)

1. Remind people (balck Americans, presumably) where they come from: A deeper well than money and materialism - public service.

2. The battle for equality must be continued - afirmative action

3. Economic rights - collectivized medical industry, nationalization of public school funding, more equitible federal disaster relief. (He seems to think the 10% match was waved in FL and NYC because of skin color. It was waved because of party loyalty. FL had a republican governor. NYC a republican mayor. New Orleans is Democratic through and through. Same thing happens when Marin county floods. When Pres. GHW Bush was asked to send them disaster relief money he merely quoted the percenteage of people who voted for him in Marin County. It was less than 30%. They got no money.)

4. What saves this sectin of the speech is his use of the word hope. He uses the word 3 times, linking this section back to an earlier part of the speech and to President William Clinton (Maya Angelou famously but wrongly called him the 'first black president"), who was born in Hope, Arkansas.

5. In talking about school funing he mentions the responsibility of parents and seems to be adopting Bill Cosby's argument. This is probably an attempt to win the votes of the morally-conservative black voter. If so, it is a shrewed move for it is something Hillary Clinton can't do, and it keeps the Republicans from taking these voters away from the Democratic Party.

Conclusion

1. He presumes a conversation with the pastors. Acknowledging that they are better speakers than he. But there is more to it than that. He is preparing the listeners for the conclusion of the speech by bringing them back to where the speech started, recognition of the living civil rights movement leaders and current pastors of the black churches.

2. He acknowledges his own weakness by appealing to Moses and Joshua again.

3. He enlists the support of the listeners to at least pray for him, which being Christians they are obliged to do.

Now, in case you haven't been keeping track, here are the people he has counted as his supporters: The living and dead leaders of the civil rights movement, including Dr.King, the Holy Propets Moses and Joshua, Pres. Abraham Lincoln, Bill Cosby, Pres. Clinton, Pres. Kennedy, Sen. Robert Kennedy, St. Paul, all the marchers in Selma those many years ago, and the audience in Brown Chapel AME on March 4. That, regarless of your political convictions, is a great oratorical feat. My hat is off to Sen. Obama. Great speech, Senator. Thank you for making this an interesting race.



SELMA, ALA.--From the pulpit of the historic Brown Chapel A.M.E. church, White House hopeful Barack Obama talks about the job of the "Joshua generation" and his own claim to a place in the civil rights movement.

Remarks of Senator Barack Obama
As Delivered
Selma Voting Rights March Commemoration, Brown Chapel A.M.E Church
March 4, 2007
Selma, Alabama

Here today, I must begin because at the Unity breakfast this morning I was saving for last and the list was so long I left him out after that introduction. So I’m going to start by saying how much I appreciate the friendship ... (Read the rest of the speech here.)

Religion of Peace

Well, according to the guy who made the Titanic (The movie, not the ship) Jesus didn't come back from the dead. Now for the past few days I've been listening carefully but I haven't heard any fatwahs. I haven't seen any riots. I don't smell smoke from fires in the streets. I haven't even heard of an embassy being bombed. We Christians have a lot to learn from the Muslims about being a religion of peace. Pretty much, we suck at this peace stuff.

PROGRESS

Well, last night I had my first drink of something other that childrens liquid tylenol (I couldn't swallow pills), nyquill, or generic tussin. I had watered down grape juice. It was heaven. I feel much better today. I am still coughing but when I consider the misery I was in from Wednesday night though this morning I can only say Happy Happy Joy Joy. I had coffee and a martini and am feeling great. All the muscles of my thorax are sore from the couging. My lungs are still a little congested, but I am so much better than I was yesterday. On Saturday morning I just cried and cried. I could not stop. But now the buring is gone. I am up and dressed and am about to go for a walk. Much good day.

Sick

I've been so sick today. Couch cough cough. Fever fever fever. Puke puke puke. Basil had a fever today, too. And Anslem was acting funny. He stayed in bed a large part of the day.

Top 5 Songs that Sound Christian but Probably Aren’t

1 . Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenbaum (this one will be played at the party after my funeral)

2. Jesus is Just Alright with Me by the Doobie Brothers

3. Desperado by the Eagles

4. My Sweet Lord by Billy Preston ( yes. I know George Harrison wrote it but Billy does it better.)

5. I Come to the Garden Alone by C. Austin Miles

Snow and Stories

This morning after dropping my wife off at her office, the boys and I drove up to the snow on the Santa Cruz Mountains. Snow balls were thrown. Later in the day, when we got home we read stories from Tomie dePaola's "Bible Stories". And took a nap.
The boys and I just had a dinner of rice and beans. Later this evening I'll boil some cabbage, potatoes, and carrots for my wife to eat when she gets home from work about 8:30 tonight.
This is a good day.

Last week and a definition

Last week was a very very bad week. I will not go into all of the horrible details. There was much sadness, sickness, sleeplessness, and anger. There were flat tires and unattained goals. There was one horrible experience at 3 a.m. (My wife is right when she says nothing good ever happens at 3 a.m.) We missed every single service during the first week of Lent. There were too many tasks and not enough time. I didn't feel any relief from last week's suffering until Saturday morning when I made a tripple martini. I say again, it was a very very very bad week.

So far, this is a much better week. Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does provide proof that human beings can, if not solve most problems, at least, out last them.

In other news, I coined and defined a new word over at Raphel's blog. (You'll have to look in the comments.)

A lenten Retreat

Bay Area Friends!

Holy Virgin Cathedral (where St. John Maximovitch lies in repose) is inviting all bay area young adults for the day!!
(Age not important)
Haven't you always wanted to visit: well now we can do it together and participate in ENGLISH!!

March 25, Sunday, which is NOT their Annunciation bc they are Old Calendar.

It's still in the works, so just SAVE THE DATE FOR NOW.

But here is a likely schedule:

Divine Liturgy in English.
First speaker following that (name of speaker is yet to be determined).
Break
Second speaker, Dr. Matthew Steenberg (they like him at the BBC).
A choir concert
Vespers

Dr. Matthew Steenberg, a 2001 Marshall Scholar from St. Olaf's College is a patristics professor from Oxford, who will give a talk on making the liturgy come to life for the worshiper.

There'll be Lenten food and stuff. The group this is aimed at is 18-30-year-old Orthodox people, but anyone is welcome to come.

3rd Lenten Email

Life in this world is preparation for life in the age to come. The Old Testament is preparation for the New Testament. Preparation and fulfillment are the two great themes in life and Scripture. That means they must be the great themes of the Church, which encompasses all of life and is the vehicle through which God produced and protects the Holy Scriptures. As you know, Lent is the preparation for the fulfillment of Pascha. But preparation and fulfillment are not just the themes of the grandest events in life. They are the pattern of even the smallest occurrences. Is bread broken without baking? Is wine enjoyed without crushing grapes? Even within one small service that is only served during Lent we see the pattern.

In the last email I sent you I told you about the Lenten Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian. Although it is prayed often by the Orthodox and eastern-rite Catholics in their private prayers, it is most beautifully framed by the evening worship service which is sometimes called the Liturgy of St. Gregory (He also lends his name to a very popular style of singing.) but which is usually called the Liturgy of Pre-Sanctified Gifts. In this Liturgy the prayer follows a hymn. The hymn is the preparation for the prayer. The prayer is the fulfillment of the hymn. And the two together are preparation for something that occurs later in the Liturgy, and the whole Liturgy is part of the preparation for Holy Week, which is preparation for Pascha. The preparation and fulfillment just goes on and on, growing in beauty at every step, until one day, if we can not see it now, we will look around us and see that we are in Heaven. And in the words of C.S. Lewis in the “Last Battle” we will continue to move “further up” and “further in” forever and ever in an eternal procession toward God.

But here and now we are talking about the hymn that prepares us for the Lenten Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian - walking before running, you know. The name of the hymn is “Let My Prayer Arise”. In a darkened temple, on bended knee, clothed in swirling clouds of frankincense we sing…

“Let my prayer arise in Thy sight as incense
And the lifting up of my hands be an evening sacrifice…”

That is merely the refrain. If you’d like to hear the whole thing but are unable to make it to any services this Lent, you can listen to the attached [to the email, not this blog post] Windows Media file. It was recorded at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Seminary in New York.

Not Iraq

I have been very worried about my oldest son going to Iraq. Today my prayer was answered. I just read that the fearsome men of the 173rd Airborne are going to Aghanistan!!!!! Weeeee!!!! Hooooo!!!!

Second Lenten Email

Part of traditional Lenten practice is the reading of spiritual books. One story that I have just reviewed today is the Silver Chair, part of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. I’m sure you are familiar with the story and its climactic scene where the heroes are confronted by the witch. She doesn’t try to kill them or take any kind of physical action against them. Indeed, she offers comfort (though in a prison) and attempts to grow doubt in the minds of the heroes; doubt about the existence of any world other than her underground abode, doubt about whether or not the sun even exists. (The whole scene is very reminiscent of Sigmund Freud‘s argument in his evil book, Society and its Discontents.) And the heroes are deceived.

Thankfully, one of the heroes had labored hard in asceticism prior to embarking on the adventure. He had lived a semi-hermetic life in a marsh, eating no meat only eels. (If you ever look in a very old British cook-book you will find plenty of recipes for eel, a traditional Lenten food in those islands.) Just as he was about to slip under the spell of the witch’s reasonable-sounding argument he seems to have remembered the power of his past asceticism for he subjected his body to the pain of fire, thus clearing his head of the witch’s cobwebs. That is, he mortified his flesh (8:13) in order to save his life, and the lives of his friends.

In the practice of the Orthodox Church we do not put our bodies into fire in order to clear our minds. (Doing grave harm to one’s body is forbidden.) However, we still manage to fit in a lot of physical stuff in order to rid our minds of the devil‘s deceits and the world‘s cloying comforts. Prostrations have been found to be particularly useful (and exhausting), especially when coupled with the Lenten Prayer of St. Ephraim the Syrian:

"O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, lust of power, and idle talk. (prostration)
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. (prostration)
Yea, Lord and King, grant me to see my own errors and not to judge my brother, for thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen. (prostration)."

Of course, the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love is none other than the Sprit of Truth Who dispels every reasonable-sounding enchantment that the enemy, or his agents wrap around our minds

First Lenten Email

During the Church's major fasting periods I send emails to my non-Orthodox friends. Most of them think Lent and Advent are just plain weird. It is my hope that the emails change their mids about that. I don't usually post those emails here because, I think, all of the readers of this blog are Orthodox and know this stuff already. But beginning with this Lent I will post the texts of the emails here, too.

----
Hi. Just as I do during Advent, I send out messages during Lent.

Aside from the Wednesday and Friday fasts, Lent is the only one of the Church’s fasts that is of Apostolic origin. Originally, the fast was only for people preparing for baptism on Pascha and it varied in length according to local custom. (There is a very interesting late 2nd century letter written from the Bishop of Lyons to the Bishop of Rome that discusses some of these differences.) In some cities the fast was kept as 1, 2, or 3 days with no food at all. In some the fast was kept for 40 hours. In other cities the week from Palm Sunday through Holy Saturday was kept as Lent. In some cities it was kept for 40 days as a fast from luxurious food such as meat or olive oil. (The humble lentil gets its name from the season). So while the overall idea of Lent was universal from the start of the Church the way Lent was observed was not universal.

This local variation is the occasion for a very famous saying. In the 5th Century St. Monica was a member of the church in Milan. Milan was what I think of as a hard-core church. They not only kept the Wednesday and Friday fasts but it was their practice to fast on Saturdays, too. When St. Monica visited Rome she was surprised to see that the Christians there did not observe a Saturday fast. Returning home, she asked her bishop, St. Ambrose, what she should do. He told her: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

For both eastern and western Christians Lent is a time of increased prayer and almsgiving but the actual days and methods of fasting were never identical.
Western Christians: 40 days (skipping Sundays, for the obvious reason) of fasting from some kind of food, increased prayers and almsgiving from Ash Wednesday until Easter. I’m not sure, but I think western Christians do pilgrimages during Lent, too.
Eastern Christians: Lent begins at Forgiveness Vespers 40 days before Palm Sunday (Holy Week is a fasting period too, but is not thought of as Lent) and includes Sundays but for the obvious reason the fast is relaxed on Sundays: alcohol and olive oil may be consumed on Sundays.

Because I am an Orthodox Lent begins for me on this coming Sunday. (But last Sunday was our carne-vale. We like to move into things gradually.). It is a physically demanding service but I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Below is an essay (originally broadcast on the National Public Radio program All Things Considered, March 2, 1998) by Frederica Mathews-Green that explains what the service is about better than I ever will be able to.


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On the first night of Lent, as Vespers comes to an end, my husband turns from the altar. He asks everyone to form a circle around the interior of the church, and when we’re in place, the person next to him—in this case, our son David—steps over to face his dad. My husband crosses himself, bows to David, then says, "Forgive me, my brother, for any way I have sinned against you. " David says, "I forgive you," and they embrace. Then it’s David’ s turn to bow to his dad and ask the same question, and receive the same forgiveness and embrace.
The ancient rite of forgiveness has begun. David steps to the next person in line to repeat the exchange, and a different parishoner faces my husband; before the evening is over every single person here will have asked for and received forgiveness from every other.
Orthodox Christians have done this for centuries, every year on the first night of Lent, to cleanse past wounds and allow a fresh start. When I next look up I see David embracing his younger brother Stephen. Where David is quiet-natured, a cool stream, Stephen is a geyser, full of passionate opinion, wide-flinging love and, not infrequently, anger. There were things to be forgiven there.
At last the rite has reached my point in line, and one at a time I bow to people I worship with every week, looking each one in the eye. Each moment is intimate, and I feel on the wobbly border between embarassment, laughter and tears. When I ask 12-year-old Melanie to forgive me, she says, "Not that you’ve done anything, but okay." Basil is giving out enveloping bear hugs with exclamations of "Praise Jesus! Praise Jesus!" Down the line, worshippers dip and bend as in a country dance.
I come to my daughter Megan, who will be eighteen in a few days. She has made it safely to adulthood past an adolescence that had it rocky places; yes, there are things to forgive here too. I bow to her and manage to say, past the lump in my throat, "Megan, please forgive me for any way that I have offended you." I could think of a million mistakes I had made. She looks at me, her lashes wet, and says, "I forgive you, Mom." Then she bends to touch the floor and stands again, and says to me, "Please forgive me, Mom, for everything."
Can a mother do such a thing? You bet. A moment later we are in a marshmallowy embrace.
Soon we are headed across the parking lot, the boys racing ahead. Megan puts her arm around me as we amble along, and I look up at a black sky spattered with stars. From this night to Easter morning a desert stretches, but it has begun with light.

Day before Lent starts

Well, this has been a nice day. Woke up late. Had toast with butter. Went to Stanford to put Two Small Farms flyers on the doors of all of the graduate students’ apartments. (My wife is the site host. If we get 40 people to sign up we get our veggies for free.) On the way to Stanford we stopped at Peet’s (I am a stock holder.) to get some coffee. We put up flyers for a couple of hours. It was the best time I’ve had with my wife in a couple of weeks. She thinks I should apply to Stanford to work on a Ph.D. when I finish the program at UMass Boston. I don’t know. I’m already 38. If I was 28, sure. But what would I do with a Ph.D. at 45? Start a new career in the highly competitive field university teaching?

The boys and I left her there to do homework for her M.P.A. program. We came home, played ball, read books, took a nap. When we woke up we made brownies and watched the first half of the Silver Chair (Part of the BBC Narnia production).

Brownies and Martinis are how I am splurging before Lent. Won’t really have time to splurge tomorrow, which is the real splurge day, Cheesefare. The brownies: Not so good. The Martinis: “…large and very strong, and very well made” as James Bond said in Ian Flemmings novel, Casino Royale. (It is a very fun book and has much to reveal about post-war Britain.)

Usually, I prefer my martinis in a small glass, a champagne goblet is the perfect size. (I have mostly large cocktail glasses but, usually, I only fill them 1/2 way up.) Or maybe, just slightly larger, like the glasses David Niven holds on that tray in the 1957 re-make of “My Man Godfrey”. Yes, that is probably the perfect size. But not for today. Today was definitely a BIG day. What, you may ask, are my ingredients? 4 oz of Beefeater London Dry Gin (the last premium gin still made in London), 1.25 oz of Gaetano D’Aquino Extra Dry Vermouth, and two largish pimento-stuffed (No exotic stuffing for me, thank you. I’m Orthodox.) olives.

Speaking of olives, if there is a Whole Foods Market near where you live, you should stop in and buy some of the Mt. Athos olives to support the monks. You will find them in the olive bar. They are very good.

So how are you splurging before the onset of Lent? Pancakes? Crepes? Milkshakes? Fondue?

Since the death of my father I have been thinking about the stories of my ancestors. Here are some parts of some of their stories. The first member of my family to enter history in this country did so a private in the Pennsylvania militia during the war of 1812. No one knows how he performed during the war. We do not know what battles, if any, he fought. We do not know if he survived the war. The next time one of my ancestors is mentioned in history is during the Civil War. We were Unionists and fought in the guerilla battles in Arkansas, Kansas, and Missouri. During the Battle of Springfield my grandmother’s grandfather was taken prisoner by Union soldiers while in a Confederate uniform. He was a spy. He was up on a horse with a rope around his neck when the word came to get him down. Had the messenger been slower would I be here today? Before the Civil War he and his brother were pioneers and Indian fighters. His brother lost his life during an Indian counter-attack. My great-great grandfather survived that particular attack. My great-great grandmother hid in the cabin during the fight and heard her brother-in-law’s screams as he was scalped alive. She would tell the story to my grandmother (my father’s mother) when she was a little girl. My grandmother told it to me. My father’s mother’s mother together with her husband (grandma and grandpa Jones) were in the land race for homesteads on the Cherokee Strip. They staked their claim and he went back to the land office to file it. While he was gone a man came and tried to steal the claim. She killed him with a shotgun blast in the stomach. The land was lost to bad investments sometime before the Great Depression. My father’s father worked in lead and zinc mines around Commerce, Oklahoma, on US oute 66. During the summers he, my grandmother, and my father would move out of the house and go down to the river to camp. They spent all summer on the river. During the day he would go to the mines but at night he and my dad would fish. This was my dad’s fondest memory of his dad. (I have the tackle box that my grandfather bought my Dad when he was 9). The mines were a horrible place. There was no safety equioment. Before the men went down in the mines they would inhale aluminum dust. The theory was that the lead would stick to the aluminum and be coughed up at the end of the shift. The aluminum dust and a wet handkerchief over his mouth was his only safety equipment. My grandfather was also a union organizer. He helped organize the workers in the mines of the Tri-State Zinc and Lead Ore Producers Association. My dad said he saw his dad leave the house many nights with a pistol and a yellow arm band. And many nights he came home beaten up very badly. Silicosis killed him when he was 42. My mother’s mother’s mother was called Grandma Reynolds. She was Cherokee. She and her husband lived on a farm in Oklahoma. They had five sons and one daughter. The farm was sufficient to feed them but for cash my great-grandfather and his sons cut wood. Their daughter married my mother’s father when she was 16. He was in his thirties. They had a stormy marriage. Her husband, my gradpa Cagle, died a couple of months before I was born. His father worked as watch repairman in St. Louis. I do not know how they met. My Grandpa Cagle fought in WWI. He was in charge of a horse team that pulled a canon. After the War he became a preacher in the United Pentecostal denomination (they are modalists). He was beat up by his neighbors in Waterloo, Illinois for showing hospitality to some black people. Later, sometime in the late 1950s he was kicked out of his denomination because he came to believe in the Trinity. But before that happened his 3rd daughter met my father in a hop field in Oregon. My father was kicked out of his house when he was 14. His mother had inherited a house when my grandfather died but a few days after the funeral she had a new man and signed the house over to him. He had four sons. He told my Dad to leave. None of my relatives would take him in so he lived on the streets of Commerce, Oklahoma. He would sleep in doorways or in the town theater. (he would hide inside after the last show.) When the man died my father moved back in with his mother. But the house was left to the man’s sons so my father and his mother had to rent a place. Shortly after that is when my Dad became a Christian. He was 17 when that happened. For work he did just about anything. He said the hardest job he ever had was sharpening the bit of a drill when he worked as a roughneck. The drill had two bits. As one was being used to go into the earth he would sharpen the other. The process was to heat it over a fire and then pound it back into shape with a 12 lb. sledge hammer. He swung that hammer from dawn till dusk. But the job that took him to Oregon where he met my mother was following the wheat harvest. When he was 21 he signed onto a crew in Oklahoma that kept moving north as the season progressed. When he got to Oregon he stopped, got a job (he had learned the butcher’s trade. That is what kept him out of WWII. He was a crew leader in a meat packing plant that supplied the Army with beef.) , an apartment, and started preaching on Sundays as a supply preacher for the Four Square denomination. One day his room-mate saw an ad that said harvesters were needed in the hop fields. Well, my Dad and his room-mate went down to the field on their day off and each took a row of hops to pick. In the rows next to them were several teenage-girls, they were singing hymns. My father and his room mate, Cecil started talking to them. Cecil started courting the woman who would be my mother. But my father was secretly in love with her. For two or three Sunday mornings Cecil and my Dad drove to my mother’s house to pick up her and one of her sisters for church. But one Sunday, Dad woke up before the alarm went off and made sure it would not go off. He got dressed very quietly and went to pick up my Mom. When she asked “Where’s Cecil?” he answered “I guess he wanted to sleep in.” By that afternoon they were going steady. Her father was horrified that his daughter had fallen in love with a Trinitarian. To get her away from him my grandfather immediately resigned his pastorate and moved his family back east, to Oklahoma, I think. But they kept writing to each other. And 7 weeks after they met my Dad drove into the town where my mother was living. 8 weeks after they met they were married.

Prince of Persia

Is this article evidence that Iran is still ruled by a demon? (See Daniel 10:13-20)
If so, would even the might of the United States, poised to invade from the sea, Iraq and Afghanistan prevail against them?

Crabs

Yesterday, the boys and I walked to a pet store. While we were there we played with the hermit crabs. Anselm asked if we could buy some. I said, "No. I'm afraid that you might hurt them." He looked a little confused and said, "I wouldn't hurt them. I'd just use the big knife to cut them in half and eat them."

The Best Thing About the Internet

Six years ago today I decided to break up with my girlfriend. (She was 10 years too young for me. I only dated women who were 18-25. I was 32. It wasn't smart. I had a lot of boring dates.) So I went to this website where I came across the most amazing woman I would ever meet. She was (still is) older than me. That in itself was kind of exotic. I quickly wrote an ad designed to almost match what she said she wanted. I even lied about being a scrabble master. Then I replied to her ad. We did a few emails. We talked on the phone. We met here a couple of weeks later. Six weeks after we met we got married in Tahoe. (The exact place was at Caeser's Palace, but it has new ownership and a new name.)
And here I am with her six years later. It never would have happened without the internet.

My Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday. My wife bought me two books: Rich Dad, Poor Dad and Wind in the Willows. We also went to Santa Cruz and played ski-ball. Anslem and I won a lot of tickets and exchanged them for all kinds of neat things. The neatest being a whoopie cushion. He absolutely falls on the floor laughing every time it sounds. For dinner we went to my favorite Greek resturaunt. Then we drove up highway 9 to Felton and played at the covered bridge park, or the boys did, anyway. I read Rich Dad, Poor Dad out loud to my wife. It is a good book and I love the information it contains but is written in what I think of as that very annoying repetitious 1st-person self-help-book style. I always feel as though the authors who write in that style think their audiences are stupid. It needs to be rewritten. But the info is good.

In other news, we drove by Prophet Elias and saw that they have an expansion/rennovation program going on. We've got to make it to their festival this year. I've heard it is the best in California.

It was a good birthday. I think it was the best since I turned 18, exactly 20 years ago.

Live Music

There is a phenomenon of the electronic age which seems to go hand-in-hand with the isolation of Man. Sitting in our single-family detached homes with green no-man’s lands separating houses from each other and even from the streets on which they are located, we can listen to pre-recorded and digitized music, completely cut off from the beauty of humanity, the spontaneity of humanity, the work of humanity. Music has become mere numbers written on silicon.

Gone are the reeds, strings, woods, and metals of the instruments. Gone is the sweat dripping off of Miles Davis’ forehead as he works to make beauty out of air. Gone is the nearly unbelievable (but I’ve seen it so I know it is real) accu-speed of Segovia’s fingers. Gone are the sequine-sheathed hips of the chanteuse swaying, keeping time like a metronome. Gone is the singer whose voice having reached the limit pushes more and stretches to reach the impossible note, the note that conjures memories of lives not lived. Gone is the shared experience of sitting in a small room with 300 other people listening, dancing, thrilling to the music. Those things just don't matter to the modern computerized recluse listening to music alone.

Don’t settle for what the corporations want to sell you. MP3s, iTunes, and CDs are mere artifice. But live performances are altogether different. They are genuine and real experience. To that end, I recommend the following musicians who are noted for the excellence of their live performances. I’m also including the names of a few good places to experience live music. I encourage you to look them over, buy tickets, and enjoy music the way it should be enjoyed: Live.

The musicians you should go see, and some places where you should see them.
Pink Martini, Steve Tyrell, Red Meat, Superdiamond, Madeleine Peyroux, Bimbo’s 365 Club, Marisa Monte, Gillian Welch , Kim Nalley , Eden Atwood , Carolina Herring , Lavay Smith and the Red Hot Skillet Lickers , Jazz at Pearls , Rube Waddell , Tilly and the Wall

A note about all of these acts. They are not listed because I even enjoy all or even most of the music they produce. For instance, I don't really like Tilly and the Wall. But they do something that is really neat. They eschew the drums other bands use. Instead they have a tap dancer. That alone makes for a fabulous live show. I mean, how often do you get to see live tap dancing today?


What musicians have you seen live who you think the rest of the world should see?

The Church for Graduate Students

I made a joke one time about Orthodoxy being Christianity for graduate students. Tonight I was remided of that joke at our parish's yearly potluck. The man I was sitting next to is fluent in Greek, Hebrew, Ethiopic, and English. He can also write in German but says he is slower in that language. But that is not all. He is the author of this book. And has worked with the Coptic Archbishop in California on that church's catechism. WOW! In one hour he explained all the stuff I didn't understand from the theology program at Joensuu.

Rain (a la cole Porter)

We have rain
Lots of rain
Under cloudy skies above.
Don't wash me out.

Why I don't like a certain heiress of Conrad Hilton

Reason #26: She has ruined "I Like Paris" (Frank Sinatra, Album: Live in Paris) for me. It used to be one of my top 10 songs and had a prominent place in my Life Soundtrack. But no more. She thinks she is just having fun. She is trampling on my life.

Where's weather?

I am sure you've heard about Alaska, the Canadian Rockies, and the great lake region getting plenty of snow this winter. I am happy for them but I am beginning to worry about California.

California, at least the northern part of the state (I have difficulty thinking of anything south of Santa Barbara as being part of The Bear Republic.) where I live has a summer-dry climate. That means ALL of our water falls in the winter. So far, very little water has fallen. The Sierra snow pack is below average. The creeks are dry, when they should be running high. The grass on the hillsides is brownish instead of the lush green of winters past. We haven't had any serious rain since November. I have a feeling we are heading into problems this summer.

Oldest son

My oldest son is a paratrooper in the 503rd. He is probably the meanest, angriest, most hostile, belligerent, and dangerous (in a physical way) person I know. He actually enjoys fighting, even when he loses the fight. His body is so strong that he seems barely human. And he is a master of all of his weapons. His chest is dripping with qualification badges. I am proud of him for his single mindedness. I am grateful that our society has a place for men like him. I am very proud of his success in the profession of arms, but more and more that ethos of fighting falls into my past as I work out my salvation, and it becomesdifficult for us to relate to each other. Oddly, one area where we can talk is ancient history. He and I both know the ancient wars. In particular, we were able to talk for a long time about the battle depicted in this movie. I can hardley wait for it to come out.

Wood Carving

Earlier today Anselm asked me if we could go to the lumber yard, buy some wood, and carve it. I told him I wasn't sure, I'd have to think about it. But just a couple of minutes ago I came across this really neat carving project. I'll keep you updated.

dating and the nanny state

I read this article about Big Brother's intrusion into the affairs of the heart. It doesn't matter to me as an individual, since I am now married, but when I was single this mattered to me quite a bit. Why? Because most of my time was spent at 2 places: Church and work. I tended not to go after the women at church, for obvious reasons. But I always considered the women at work fair game. That is until that first sexual harrassment training. It was horrible. One of the women in the room, with whom I'd been out a couple of times, said, "Wow! I'd hate to be a man."

Anyway, that was kind of a tangent. Looking back, over my single years (way too many of them) I can see several situations where I was "harrased" (always too my liking). Once, and this is the tie-in to the article linked above, by an x-ray technician, another time by a nurse. I enjoyed it. Since, in both instances they were the primary actors I can only assume they enjoed the little flirtation, too.

So why do I care about this now? Because I have sons. I want them to have the broadest possible selection of women available to them when they reach the age to pick wives. I expect them to pursue any unmarried woman they want. I don't want them to feel limited by silly laws. Of course, the Western tradition is that an immoral law is no law. Alas, that is not the case for silly laws.

Field Trip

Anselm is making good progress in astronomy. He has memorized and can find in the sky many constellations and the 1st magnitude stars.
Today we went on a field trip to the Lick Observatory at the top of Mt. Hamilton. Much fun. Anselm was amazed to learn that other planets have moons.

Two Books and the Wall Street Journal

In the last three days we have received two fabulous books in the mail.
1. "We Praise, Bless, and Worship: Daily Prayer for Orthodox Christians". Now we can do Vespers, Compline, and Matins at home! Very exciting. We've done Compline. Tomorrow we are adding Matins. Thanks, Kum.
2. "Discovering the Universe". It is a college astronomy text book that comes with a cool CD-Rom that lets us observe the night sky regardless of clouds, artificial light, or smog. (He is doing very well in learing the constellations and 1st mag. stars.) Thanks, Philippa.

My comment was chosen for publication on the WSJ Online. I have commented on many of their stories but this is the first time one of my comments made it past the review process.

Cross

Basil, who is 15 months old, made the sign of the Cross over his dinner plate tonight. Thank you, Godparents, for all your prayers.

Strange Conversation

I had a very unsatisfactory conversation with a Roman Catholic on Saturday. I didn’t know him but we were both looking on the “Western Religion” shelves in used-book store. When I saw one of my own old books on the shelf I said to him in a casual kind of way, “Its an odd feeling to see a book one has owned sitting on this shelf.” I thought he might reply with something like “Oh, do you sell many books here?” But that isn’t what he said. Instead, he asked me, “What kind of Christian are you?”
“I’m Eastern Orthodox. You?”
“I’m a Catholic. So when are the Orthodox going to unify and come into communion with Peter?”
I ignored the invitation to convert to RCism but still wanted to be friendly so I asked, “Why do you think we aren’t unified?”
He replied, “You can’t be unified if you are not in communion with the Pope”.
I said, “Oh. You realize that Orthodox hold that all bishops share in …”
“But you guys used to think the Bishop of Rome was the Pope, then Byzantium, and now Moscow. You can’t keep changing who you think the head of the Church is.”
“We don’t th…”
“How do you explain Poland?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Even during communism Poland was held together by the Catholic Church in communion with Peter. But Alexy II is a KGB officer. What do you think of that?”
“Oh, yes. He was a KGB officer. But that doesn’t mean his consecration as a bishop is faulty. Back in the 4th Century the Donatists…”
“But you have to look at Poland! Just look at how their devotion to Peter preserved them!”
I didn’t know what to say to him. But he was okay with that. He was really into monologue. He went on to explain how the Roman Pope has always been of the purist faith and morals. I mentioned the Borgia Popes and the enthrallment with the French King and was about to bring up Pope Honorious and the abandonment of the Advent fasting rules for the sake of stolen but he seemed to not know what I was talking about and cut me off again. At this point the was raising his voice and Anselm was saying he had to go to the bathroom. It seemed like the right to extricate myself from an uncomfortable situation. As I was saying “Its been nice chatting, have a nice day” he was saying, “How do you explain Poland?”
That will teach me to open my mouth!

I have a dream

Monday is MLKjr Day. And I have a dream. I have a dream that in my lifetime Amercans will return to their sartorial senses and dress as they did on that summer day in Washington, when Dr. King delivered that magnificent speech.

Compare, if you will, the dress of Dr. King's audience with the mourners who filed past Ronald Reagan's coffin on another summer day in Washington. The former was a display of dignity, elegence, modesty, and decorum. Men wore white shirts, ties (but even when no tieswere worn the shirts had collars and buttons), and hats. Women wore dresses and hats, and carried purses of practicality and reasonable size. But it is painful to even think of the the latter. Flip-flops, tanktops, short pants, t-shirts with writing on them, and atheletic shoes. What an embarrassment. I give us 15 years (max) before most Americas are walking around naked except for their atheletic shoes and baseball caps.

We've come a long way, baby.

This Month's Educational Goals

I am homeschooling Anselm in earnest now. It occured to me that he is going to be 5 in a couple of months so I need to get on the ball. Below are the months ducational goals. I will post the results in early February.

Astronomy (Texts: Find the Constellations & The Night Sky Book):
1- Memorize the names, and identify the (N. hemisphere) constellations containing the fifteen 1st-magnitude stars, and the names of the 1st-magnitude stars.
2- Solidify knowledge of the lunar phases.
3- Define : light year, AU, star, planet, moon, zodiac, constellation, telescope
4 - Learn how to use a star chart.
5- Draw connection between the 8 lunar phases and the 8-tones in relation to Gen. 1.
Pedagogical method: Tracing constellations, viewing constellations, visit to observatory, flash cards

Theology (Text: Bible)
1- Learn the difference between a prophet and a priest
2- Learn the difference between a judge and a king
3-Learn that obedience is better than sacrifice
4-Learn that human governments work for God
5-Learn that priests and kings both can misbehave and be replaced by God.
Pedagogical method: Read aloud to Anselm the entire story of his patron, the Holy Prophet Samuel. Discuss.

Literature (Text: Magician's Nephew)
1- Enjoy the story
2- Develop ability to identify allegory
Pedagogical method: Read aloud to Anselm and discuss along the way. (It took him about 3 seconds for him to figure out that Aslan was God. Nothing in the book, so far, would identify him as the Son.)

Reading (Text: Not determined)
1 - Learn the vowel sounds
2 - Learn the phonems of his own name and match them to the letters of his name
Pedagogical method: Not determined

Math (Text: Not determined)
1 - Solidify knowledge of "tens"
2 - Learn difference between various units of measure
3- Introduce concepts of basic arithamtic operations
4- Introduce concept of 1 and fractions (will tie this into cooking, probably. Measuring cups will provide illustration.)
Pedagoical method: Not determined

Politics (Text: Not determined)
1 - Learn Aristotle's 6 forms of government and the differences between them
2- Introduce the concept of division of powers
3- Introduce the concept of federalism
Pedagogical method: Discussion and wall chart

Stollen, the Butter Ban, and Advent

Yesterday, we bought a walnut stollen from Sterntaler Bakery. It is absolutely the best stollen I have ever had in my entire life. (The other one I had was horrible. I got it at Cost Plus during Nativity week and had decided never to waste my money on stollen again.) This Sterntaler Bakery stollen is amazing. I wouldn't have bought it if the baker had not given me a sample. All I can say is WOW!!!! It is so yummy as to be nearly indescribable. The walnuts, spices and sugar are made into a moist (not gooey) paste and baked in a light yet substantial bread that has the perfect flavor, texture, and density. (See picture) It slices well, and the slices are easliy cut into thirds (they don't fall apart) for little hands to grasp.

But here is the interesting thing to an Orthodox Christian. According to the packaging...

Prior to around A.D. 1380 stollen was "a rather dull pastry as the catholic church's dogma forbade the use of butter and milk in its baking. Lord Ernst of Saxony appealed to the Pope to lift the so-called "butter-ban." The Pope eventually gave in and declared that milk and butter could be used in baking stollen. He declared this could be done with a clear conscience, with God's blessing, and by making a financial contribution to building the new Dresden cathedral."

As soon I read this aloud to my wife she said, "Are you going to call them and tell them about their mistake." I said, "Probably, but I need to confirm it first."

So I set out to confirm our suspicion, that the "butter ban" was nothing more than the Christian practice of eating no meat or dairy food in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. (This annual abstension from all meat and dairy food used to be normal for all Christians, but over time, most Christians abandoned the ancient practice. Only the Orthodox still keep the fast.) I looked at the history of Stollen on the official Dresden Stollen website but there was no mention of Advent in the article there. The text on the official site like the text on the packaging made the "butter ban" seem like a 365-days-a-year ban. But I knew my wife and I had to be right about the butter ban only being in place during Advent.

This was confirmed for me by Linda Stradley at What's Cooking America. Here is what she said:

"Stollen is thought to have originated in Dresden in the 1400s. However, at that time the Catholic Church, as part of the fasting rules in preparation for Christmas, forbade the use of butter during Advent. Thus, the stollen of the middle ages was a somewhat tasteless pastry.
In 1650 Prince Ernst von Sachsen at the request of bakers in Dresden, successfully petitioned Pope Urban VIII to lift the restrictions on the use of butter during Advent. The restrictions were lifted only in Dresden and thus began a baking tradition that continues to this day."

So, the nit-picky Orthodox Christian part of me has been satisfied, but here is the best thing about this Stollen: They sell it not only during Advent, when I can't eat it, but during Nativity week, and Theophany-tide as well!!!! This is extremely joyous for me because even though my family ate much panettone during Christmas, we didn'tget to enjoy the best panettone. The best panettone is sold by Trader Joe's and ALWAYS sells out before December 25. But now we know of something better than the best panettone. Now we can buy Stollen from Sterntaller Bakery and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the best possible pastry is on the table for Christmas. In fact, next year it will be given as Christmas presents.

Nevertheless, this joyfullness will be tempered with a little bit of sadness. A thorn among the roses. Every time I eat stollen I will be reminded that the once great and faithful Rome began abandoning Orthodox fasting on account of stollen.

Four new Orthodox Christians

Today at my parish four people were were brought into the Church. Two by Baptism, two by Chrismation. (We need a new building. But that will be a different post.) How to describe this to my EvProt and/or Pentecostal family?

Orthodox think of Baptism as being Born Again (see the Confession of St. Patrick), but EvProts and Pentecostals tend to think of Baptism as something not very important or even optional. Orthodox think of Chrismation as being Baptised in the Holy Ghost and fire. But Pentecotals would not recognize Chrismation. So, tomorrow when my Mother (I'm taking her to a doctor appoitment) asks how church was today, I'll probably just say "It was good. How were services at your church?"

Tonight I made mulled cider and roasted chestnuts for Anselm and I. The cider was good but I forgot to slice open the chestnut shells before roasting. The sound reminded me of a cluster bomb going off.

12th Day of Christmas

Took down all the decorations this afternoon. The last item to be taken down was a red ribbon that ran along the top of the wall. Tied to the ribbon were 18 christmas tree ornaments: chocolate wrapped in colorful foil. I put them up the day after my dad died. Until the forefeast of Nativity they were the only decoration we put up. Every day since Anselm has been asking me to take them down so he could eat them. But we waited until today. He ate so many he didn't want anymore. We gave the last to the neighbors. It was a nice way for the boys to end Christmas.

This eveing we went to Church for vespers before Theophany. The boys were very tired during the service. We left after about 1.75 hrs. I felt bad about leaving early but they were so sleepy. I love all those OT readings. Except for water being in all of them I don't understand why some of them are included; like when Elisha had water poured on the altar during his contest with the prophets of Baal. What does that have to do with Theophany?

Ninth Day of Christmas

Woke up at 4am could go back to sleep so I got up and did morning prayers. Made coffee. Woke Cyndi and the boys up at 6:20.

Panettone for breakfast!!!! (We have had several panettoni since the beginning of the feast. Whole Foods 365 was the only one we didn't like.)

Took Cyndi to work and then the boys and I drove to the summit of the Montara Range (really, it is just the northern end of the Santa Cruz Range) to where my Dad is buried. The headstone isn't there yet, just a plot number and netting to hold the sod down. It is very strange to think that the man I was talking to just a few weeks ago was under that sod. Prayed the trisagion for him. Holy water.

I was up late last night stuffing the Christmas letter into envelopes. Found out today that the post offices are closed for mourning. I remember Pres. Ford, barely.

On New Years Eve we had popcorn, hot chocolate and watched 2 movies: The Grinch (with the voices of Frankenstein and Darth Vader) and White Christmas. Rosemary Clooney sounds better than human bengs should and looks fabulous in that black velvet dress. It is such a good movie. It makes me feel nostalgic for a time that probably never was.

Sixth Day of Christmas

This morning was the memorial service for my Dad. Afterwards I came home and slept the rest of the day. Terrible headache.

This eveing my wife, the boys, and I sang carols.

The Feast So Far

So far, this has been a very fun Nativity Feast.

Day 1
Of course, it started the night before with the Divine Liturgy of St. Basil at St. Stephen's where we heard St. John’s Nativity Homily. No better way to begin the feast. It was also our first time to have Communion in our new Parish. After getting home about half past midnight we went to bed. Woke up in the morning did morning prayers and then opened presents. (I received bic pens, socks, and underwear.) While I went out looking for wreathes, trees, and holly being thrown away (one of the advantages of waiting until Christmas to decorate for Christmas) Cyndi cooked a fabulous breakfast of thick cut baccon, eggs, and toasted panettone.
Then as Anselm and I listened to Christmas music and decorated the house, Cyndi cooked HAM!!! We took much of the 40lb. Ham to my sisters house where my mother, two of my siblings, and some friends celebrated. (I thought I would try to save some money and bring Piper Sonoma champagne (notice that I am not linking to them.) instead of my usual Chandon Blanc de Noirs or Agrapart & Fils Blanc de Blancs. Big mistake. Can you say hideous bitter aftertaste? Yuck!)
Delivered cookies to the neighbors.
Read children’s Christmas books.

Day 2
Panettone for Breakfast!!!!
Hosted a gingerbread man party for my nieces. Super fabulous fun. My mother was in attendance.
Ham for lunch and dinner!!!
Read the children’s book “Stephen’s Feast” to my nieces and sons. Much Fun!!!
My nephew and I acted out the song Good King Wenceslas. Much Fun!!!
Vesperal Liturgy for the Feast of St. Stephen at St. Stephen's.

Day 3
Panettone for Breakfast!!!!
Did a little Christmas present shopping.
Read children’s Christmas books.

Day 4
Panettone for Breakfast!!!!
Laundry
Rearranged some furniture.
Nothing too exciting except my beautiful and talented wife made these amazing little cookies filled with apricot jam and raisins. YUM!!!
Dinner: hearty HAM and lintel soup!!!!

Day 5
Breakfast: oatmeal with BUTTER!!!!! YUM!!!!
We went for a walk around Stowe Lake, ate HAM !!!! sandwiches, returned some children’s Christmas books to the library.
Mailed some Christmas presents.
Dinner: HAM and lentil soup!!!!
Wrote and printed the Christmas letter.
Watched the best movie version ever made of “A Christsmas Carol” on DVD (No. I do not have a television machine. We watched it on the computer.)
Watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas on DVD
Watched the National Geographic Christmas special, “Animal Holiday” on DVD.

Regarding Childrens Christmas Books: Of the three or four dozen we have read these are the best (in no particular order):
The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey (Warning: tear jerker)
The Tale of the Three Trees (Warning: tear jerker)
Babushka
Stephen's Feast
I Saw Three Ships (Warning: tear jerker)
HARK! (this book is illustrated by Tomie dePaola, perhaps the best writer/illustrator there is of books for Orthodox and Roman Catholic children.
The Story of the Three Wise Kings (written and illustrated by Tomie dePaola)

I just finished writing something for my Dad's Memorial Service

I'm not sure how this service will go. What I understand from overhearing my eldest brother and mother talking is that the Bishops from California will say something, then my Dad's pastor will give a sermon, then family members will speak. I don't know what will happen after that.

Anyway, here is what I will be saying.

----

The Pentecostal Church of God, the denomination in which my father served has as it’s motto "Proclaiming Bible Truth in Pentecostal Power". Miracles, speaking in tongues, prophecy – those are the hallmarks of the pentecostal movement. And his life, from infancy on was accompanied by miracles of both the providential and the wondrous varieties. From the time he was 17, when a deacon from his local Assemblies of God church literally chased him out of the house through a bedroom window to see him converted, it was clear that the hand of God rested on him. He was only a Christian for a few days or weeks when he was called to preach.

His first sermon was a horrible flop - before he had reached his second point he left the pulpit in shame - but the Holy Spirit does not need people to be effective. He just wants people to be faithful and He'll take care of effective. So while my Dad was kneeling in embarrassment at a chair on the platform, the Holy Spirit moved. The pastor of the church went over to my Dad and said, "Brother Karnes, look at this." and when my Dad lifted his head he saw the front of the little church filled with people weeping and repenting of their sins. Even the pastor's own backslidden son was brought to repentence by my Dad's first sermon.

And there were other miracles. There was a visit by an angel during a time of uncertainty. And, once, when my parents had lived for weeks on beans and had and asked God to provide meat, God heard their prayer and did as they asked. As if repeating the miracle of the quail in the wilderness, God sent a duck to land in their front yard. And, of course, my Dad he spoke in tongues, and prophecied , and sometimes people were healed when he prayed for them. But I don't remember those gifts being exercised very often by my Dad. The greatest miracle of all, the most important miracle of all, the one that absolutely and always depends on "Proclaiming Truth in Pentecostal Power" was repeated many times during the course of my Dad’s ministry. Of course, I am talking about the miracle of turning a hard heart soft, of saving faith welling up in a soul, and a sinner repenting of his sins . That miracle I saw many times.

But no miracle saved my Dad. His tongue is dry and silent. There is no prophecy coming out of his mouth now. But we are not surprised. Even Lazarus died again many years after Jesus raised him from the dead. (If you wish, you can visit his tomb today on the Isle of Cyprus.) St. Paul said it would be this way. "…whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease". That sounds pretty final. It seems that there is no Pentecostal Power residing in my Dad's body any longer. So I have to set aside the "Pentecostal Power" part of that motto; it seems to have ceased, and for hope I have to cling to the other part of that motto, "The Bible Truth" part.

His denomination’s Statement of Faith proclaims that Jesus will return "to resurrect the righteous dead". That is how his denomination proclaims the Bible Truth. It is not an uncommon belief. There are about 1 1/2 Billion Christians in the world who belive the same thing. It is what all Christians everywhere and always have believed. One of the creeds of the early Church puts it this way: "I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come."

So, like all Chrstians everywhere and at all times the ressurection of the dead is what my Dad proclaimed. It is what my Dad believes. Just a few nights before he died, two days before I even knew he was dying, I remembered him in a dream. I was a little boy and he was here on this platform preaching out of the book of Job. "For I know [that] my redeemer liveth, and [that] he shall stand at the latter [day] upon the earth: And [though] after my skin [worms] destroy this [body], yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; [though] my reins be consumed within me."

That is the Bible Truth. But it should not be surprising to us that the Bible would lead us back into that Pentecostal Power: For the Holy Spirit, with whom we seek to be filled is also called "the Spirit of Truth". And being filled with the Spirit is the most important thing in the world. It is our ultimate concern. And not because of tongues, or healing, or prophecy. Those things are useful, but not to my Dad. Not now. Worms are eating his body. His tongue isn't moving right now. He can't lay hands on anyone right now. But the Spirit isn't finished with him.

St. Paul is emphatic when he tells us "if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you." That is the "Pentecostal Power" and the "Bible Truth" most important to my Dad, the "Pentecostal Power" and "Bible Truth" that is, ultimately, most important to us all.

My Dad’s body has been a temple of the Spirit of Life for about 63 years. Since he was 17 his body has been graced by the presence of God and it is precious to the One who made it. My Dad’s body, now in a grave, is so precious that God took flesh from a woman and suffered death, that my Dad’s body might live forever. So though it is buried in the earth, a testimony to our first father’s sin, and eventually, will be forgotten by men, God sees it. God will remember it. God does not forget his temples. And in the latter day the Wind will blow through that grave. Dry bones will be put back together, skin eaten by worms will be made new, and my Dad’s own blue eyes will see his Redeemer. That is "Bible Truth". That is "Pentecostal Power".