RevGal Friday Five - Ancient Modern edition

1. What modern convenience/invention could you absolutely, positively not live
without?
A hot water heater. I can function without a lot of things that I take for granted every day. It's one of the reasons I like camping. Cooking over an open fire, using candles for lighting, and hiking or riding horseback or driving a wagon to get around all have a certain appeal. However, I would so not want to be boiling water every time I went to wash something, or take a bath... that big ol' tank in the basement is My Friend.

2. What modern convenience/invention do you wish had never seen the light of day? Why?
I can't think of anything that I find wholly irredeemable; even cell phones have their virtues, and I'd be hard-pressed to do the job I do without one. But the the way they sound off EVERYWHERE... LOUDLY... with an infinite variety of ringtones that all sound obnoxious... That. Needs. To. Stop.

3. Do you own a music-playing device older than a CD player? More than one? If so, do you use it (them)?
We gave away our turntable when we moved here, two years ago. In spite of that, I cling tenaciously to a small collection of albums that saw me through my teen and college years. No logic at all, I know; but there it is.

4. Do you find the rapid change in our world exciting, scary, a mix...or something else?
I think of the nursery rhyme: "When it is good, it is very, very good; and when it is bad, it is horrid." A mix of good and evil, as life has always been, only at an accelerated pace.

5. What did our forebears have that we have lost and you'd like to regain? Bonus points if you have a suggestion of how to begin that process.
A tolerance for silence. Finding quiet takes real effort-- even when we turn off the radios and televisions (which I do more and more these days), there is still an ever-present hum of electronic devices doing their thing-- and when we do, we don't know how to behave. It takes me a while to get past the fidgets; but when I do, it's such a blessing.

When it rains, it pours

The weather today was damp, cold and spitting snow.

Then I heard the news about my seminary. Not a surprise, really; and yet it was...

Some days, all the prayers are simply wordless tears and hanging on.

Monkey Business

Go on, give it a try. You know you want to....

All work and no play?

Not exactly. There were some amusing moments as I made my way through the week. Of course, "amusing" is in the eye of the beholder, and I am easily entertained...

We passed this wrapped hydrant each time we walked from the hotel to the conference center. I thought it looked like a Jawa waiting to cross the street. It began to feel like a familiar friend; if we'd have been there much longer I'd probably have named it.

This little fellow was also along our path, at a clothing store next to the hotel. Apparently "Elder Teddy" helps with all that pesky LDS missionary shopping.

On the way home, shortly after we crossed the Idaho border, we saw this.





It probably wouldn't have been quite so funny to me if it weren't for the predilection our youngest has for all things potato. Think I'm exaggerating? This was the parting message he left on the white board by the door, before I left on Tuesday:

Busy, busy, busy

I barely got unpacked from Clergy Conference when I turned around and left again. Five days on the road, that went like this:

*Tuesday: Drove west to Rev. Ref & LW's house, where I spent the night (The Kid graciously allowed me use of the second twin bed in her room).

*Wednesday: Ref & I got up at 0-dark-hundred, and drove to Salt Lake City for the Promise of Land Conference: three days of listening and learning about preaching in the name of Continuing Education. It was held at the Diocese of Utah's Episcopal Church Center (ECCU), a new conference/office facility attached to the Cathedral there. The picture you see at the left is of the cathedral, taken from the roof of the ECCU (set up as a patio area, with tables and chairs.




We could also look down and see the finishing touches being put on the labyrinth in the courtyard between the old and new buildings. It's lovely.



The labyrinth from ground level.

Thursday: More Conference. The speakers were good-- preachers who know their stuff, and were happy to share. Sometimes the presentations got a bit academic for my taste-- you will no doubt be shocked to learn I lean more heavily to the practical than the theoretical-- but overall, I found it quite useful. I brought home more than one set of notes that I'll be chewing on for some time.

Friday: The conference finished up just before lunch, and we headed out-- but not before going over to take one last look at the cathedral (and in my case, a few more pictures). I apologize for the sideways nature of these photos-- can't figure out how to get Blogger to turn them.






There were Tiffany windows...




... and the altar book used by Bishop Tuttle (the missionary bishop for Montana, as well as the first Bishop of Utah)...















... and the primatial crozier (or staff? is it a crozier if it's not a shepherd's crook?) used by the Presiding Bishop, who was just arriving for a conference as we were leaving.

The dean of the cathedral was just putting it in place when we were there, and offered to let us hold it. We politely declined (the Ref. with more than a little panic at the very thought of being handed episcopal regalia, and me out of self-preservation. I do not have a good track record with croziers).

We did see Bishop Katharine, very briefly; but she was just coming in with her suitcase, and had that glazed, "too many hours traveling" look, so we merely said hello and kept moving.

Then we hightailed it back to MT, to be home for The Kid's performance in her high school play. They put on "Our Town," did a very respectable job, and appeared to have fun doing it (LW and I both took pictures, and if she and or Ref post them I'll link to it). Then she let me use her spare bed one more time, bless her (a hostess gift in the form of some Nutella seemed to be a welcome thank-you-- she adores the stuff).

Saturday: Again up early, to head for Helena for a diocesan seminar on financial stewardship (planned giving, captial campaigns, annual stewardship) led by representatives from the Episcopal Church Foundation. I had two parishioners also attending, from one of my churches; so we each went to one segment of the day. We'll compare notes later in the week, to separate the wheat from the chaff. The seminar actually finished a bit early, as Weather was rolling in and some of us had a ways to drive.

But now I'm home, and unpacked. And this is where the introvert kicks in-- it'll take me days to sort through and process the whirlwind of learning and information and general stuff that I've stored on the surface of my mind this last week. Right now all I can think of is that I am So. Ready. For. Bed.

But it has been an awfully good whirlwind.

Clergy Conference

Our annual Clergy Conference was last week. It was held at our diocesan campground, with most clergy staying at a nearby motel (a no-frills operation, but adequate). However, the modest accommodations were offset by great food, prepared by the hard-working camp staff and shared in good company. Among the latter was Fr. John's sweet wife, who was able to join us (not always possible, with her work schedule). We'd only met once or twice before, and I had great fun getting to know her better. She's a keeper.

This years' speaker-- the Rev. Dr. Arnold Klukas, a professor out of Nashotah-- talked about contemplative spirituality in the tradition of some of the early mystics-- John of the Cross, Julian of Norwich, that sort of thing. It was interesting, and a good reminder, albeit frustrating to some of my esteemed colleagues who seemed to hear in the talk a devaluation of more active, mission-oriented spirituality.

Honestly, I fail to see the problem. Scratch that-- I do understand what the concern was; I just don't think the way they do-- that this is an "either/or" situation. In fact, I'll go further: I believe that when both sides of the coin are not present, God's presence in the world is not as "living and active" as it can be. Sister Judith's hermit prayers and solitary intercessions are just as critical to the inbreaking of the Kingdom of God as Deacon John's "roll up your sleeves in Jesus' name and dive in," no more and no less. Each supports and enriches the other, and we lose sight of that to our spiritual peril.

New Kid on the Block

I caved. I'll admit it. After weeks (months) of refusing even to consider the possibility, stubbornly saying no, I gave in.









After all, how do you resist faces like these? All three of them together was too much for me.




Names are being bandied about; so far, he's Junior.

March Madness

Months ago, I declared an interest in learning to knit socks. This is a more complicated thing than the standard hats and scarves I've done to date; socks are knit in the round, so they traditionally use a bunch of double point needles (dpn's) that look a whole lot like long toothpicks. The thought of being coordinated enough to manage this was an intimidating thing for me, as I do not have a long track record of being gifted with a high degree of coordination. Okay, so I'm a klutz.

However, once Lent and Holy Week were past, I decided that this was as good a time as any to give it a shot. My own little challenge, if you will, in the midst of March Madness. And after several false starts, it's actually working! The knitters at one of my churches have been quite helpful, as have the good folks at Wild Purls-- a lovely, friendly little yarn shop in Billings.

Behold, the sock!

You'll note that this was last week, before the NCAA tournament ended. I've made more progress since then, and am almost up (or down?) to the heel.

(Yes, I fill in my own brackets as the tournament goes on. The highlighter colors help to track various conferences. What's that? OCD? No, I don't think so. Just... organized.)

How to recognize a Hoosier

You Know You're From Indiana When...

Geography

• You measure distance in minutes.
• You have no problem spelling or pronouncing Terre Haute.
• You know that South Bend is north, North Vernon is south, and you can say French Lick without giggling.
• There’s actually a college near you named Ball State.

Sports

• On game night, the high school baskeball gym is the most populous “city” in the county.
• The local paper covers national and international headlines on 1 page but requires 6 for sports.
• You can see at least 2 basketball hoops from your yard.
• You understood the details of the CART vs. IRL debate, and took sides.

Education

• You rode the school bus for an hour each way.
• People at your high school chewed tobacco.
• “Getting caught by a train” is a legitimate excuse for being late to school.
• The biggest decision of your youth was "Purdue or IU?”

Transportation

• The second biggest decision was “Ford or Chevy?”
• You think ethanol makes your truck "run a lot better."
• Kids and dogs ride in the passenger seats of cars and the backs of pickups.
• You “take back roads to get there.” Why sit in traffic?
• You think nothing of it in spring and fall to be stuck behind a farm implement driving on the roads.
• You carry jumper cables in your car.
• Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
• To get to school you had to drive on a gravel road, a road with several right-angle turns in it or if you were really lucky, over a covered bridge.
• You know several people who have hit a deer.

Social

• You've seen all the biggest bands-- ten years after they were popular.
• All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, or grain.
• When asked how your trip was to any foreign, exotic place, you say, "It was different."
• You consider being called a "Pork Queen" an honor.
• You see people wear bib overalls at funerals.
• You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.
• You know what "cow tipping" is.
• You’ve heard of Euchre, you know how to play Euchre, and you are the master of Euchre.

Weather

• Your school classes were canceled because of cold.
• Your school classes were canceled because of heat.
• You've ever had to switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day.
• You know what's knee-high by the Fourth of July.

Vocabulary

• Stores don't have bags, they have sacks.
• You drink "pop."
• You end your sentences with an unnecessary preposition. Example: “Where’s my coat at?”‘ or “If you go to the mall, I wanna go with.”
• You say things like “catty-wumpus” and “kitty-corner.”
• Your teens refer to the bus as the 'cheese wagon', and refuse to ride it.

Miscellaneous

• De-tassling was your first job. Bailing hay was your second.
• You know that bailin’ wire was the predecessor to duct tape.
• You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both unlocked.
• You know that a “tenderloin” is not an expensive cut of beef, but a big, salty, breaded piece of pork served on a bun with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and mayonnaise.

"What exactly is a Hoosier, anyway?"

That's the question John asked in the post below. I think I answered it back when I first began this blog; but I can't find it in the archives, so perhaps not.

Simply put, a Hoosier is a person from Indiana, the Hoosier state. Which I am-- not born (Dad was in the service, so my birth certificate says North Carolina), but raised there. From infancy until I married and took my first "real job," the northwest corner of the state was home. Then we lived away (Ohio, then Illinois) for more than a dozen years, but moved back shortly after my youngest was born. When I went to seminary (where I started this blog), there was a contingent in my class which found this amusing and provincial; and so, out of pique and a certain pride, I adopted the nickname as part of my title.

Now the next question: where did the nickname itself come from? That's a more complicated answer. The origins are murky at best, but seem to stem from the early 1800's, and no one is really sure of a definitive answer. Among the more popular theories, according to the Indiana Historical Society:

• When a visitor hailed a pioneer cabin in Indiana or knocked upon its door, the settler would respond, "Who's yere?" And from this frequent response Indiana became the "Who's yere" or Hoosier state. No one ever explained why this was more typical of Indiana than of Illinois or Ohio.
• Indiana rivermen were so spectacularly successful in trouncing or "hushing" their adversaries in the brawling that was then common that they became known as "hushers," and eventually Hoosiers.
• There was once a contractor named Hoosier employed on the Louisville and Portland Canal who preferred to hire laborers from Indiana. They were called "Hoosier's men" and eventually all Indianans were called Hoosiers.
• A theory attributed to Gov. Joseph Wright derived Hoosier from an Indian word for corn, "hoosa." Indiana flatboatmen taking corn or maize to New Orleans came to be known as "hoosa men" or Hoosiers. Unfortunately for this theory, a search of Indian vocabularies by a careful student of linguistics failed to reveal any such word for corn.
  
• Quite as possible is a facetious explanation offered by "The Hoosier Poet," James Whitcomb Riley. He claimed that Hoosier originated in the pugnacious habits of our early settlers. They were enthusiastic and vicious fighters who gouged, scratched and bit off noses and ears. This was so common an occurrence that a settler coming into a tavern the morning after a fight and seeing an ear on the floor would touch it with his toe and casually ask, "Whose ear?"

Many have inquired into the origin of Hoosier. But by all odds the most serious student of the matter was Jacob Piatt Dunn, Jr., Indiana historian and longtime secretary of the IHS. Dunn noted that "hoosier" was frequently used in many parts of the South in the 19th century for woodsmen or rough hill people. He traced the word back to "hoozer," in the Cumberland dialect of England. This derives from the Anglo-Saxon word "hoo" meaning high or hill. In the Cumberland dialect, the world "hoozer" meant anything unusually large, presumably like a hill. It is not hard to see how this word was attached to a hill dweller or highlander. Immigrants from Cumberland, England, settled in the southern mountains (Cumberland Mountains, Cumberland River, Cumberland Gap, etc.). Their descendants brought the name with them when they settled in the hills* of southern Indiana.

*Note to all my mountain-loving friends: they are nowhere near the elevations you're used to; but yes, there are hills in southern Indiana. It is lovely, rolling countryside, and you really should visit in the fall, when the trees set the hills ablaze with color.

Godly Extremism

Forty years ago today, an angry white man shot and killed a black preacher-- one who had already been threatened, assaulted, and arrested many times, because of his perceived "radical extremism" in the cause of civil rights. His Letter from a Birmingham Jail explains why he lived so:

Was not Jesus an extremist for love -- "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice -- "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the gospel of Jesus Christ -- "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist -- "Here I stand; I can do none other so help me God." Was not John Bunyan an extremist -- "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience." Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist -- "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free." Was not Thomas Jefferson an extremist -- "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." So the question is not whether we will be extremist but what kind of extremist will we be. Will we be extremists for hate or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice--or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?

No, he was not perfect. Any serious study of any life will reveal points where one "falls short of the glory of God," and this man was no different. But the world is a better place, and we are better people, for his having lived this witness. Thanks be to God.

Almighty God, by the hand of Moses your servant you led your people out of slavery, and made them free at last: Grant that your Church, following the example of your prophet Martin Luther King, may resist oppression in the name of your love, and may secure for all your children the blessed liberty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Domesticity reigns

Today was a day for working through accumulated household jobs:

• Clean bathroom (not the usual slap-dash, "just enough that I can stand to use it," but thoroughly)
• Clean kitchen (ditto)
• Weekly laundry
  
• Balance checkbook, and pay bills
• Clean out and refill bird feeder
• Dust family room (oil coffee table)
• Sort and deal with (put away/toss out) accumulated piles & clutter

Even adding a nap-- curling up like a cat in the warmth of an unreasonably gorgeous afternoon-- I made it through the whole list (well, the laundry is still in progress-- but that's normal). Then we capped off the day by cooking dinner as a family (the boy is turning into a respectable young grill master). Nothing adventurous or exciting... just a pleasant day, and a list of various parts of my life and surroundings put "decently and in order." And it's amazing how good that feels.

Milestone

Yesterday's April Foolishness marked post #1000 here at Chez Hoosier. Somehow that seems singularly appropriate.

Breaking news!

Episcopal Church named "official denomination" of Major League Baseball

"The Baptists and Catholics both made strong bids," said a baseball official familiar with the negotiations. "And it is true that both traditions brought strong numbers to the table." Few commentators expected the Episcopal Church's bid to be as strong as it was.

Selig said that Episcopalians bring the right mix of arcane tradition, an appreciation of minutiae and a tolerance for long stretches of relative inaction that make them "a good fit for us."

Does this mean that the pantone colors in the Episcopal Shield will shift slightly?