Mother’s Day: Lost, Sought, Found

It must have seemed possible to invent a more palatable past, to stay one step ahead of the truth if one just moved often and fast.


One Sunday morning it was June 19th, or Juneteenth, and Mother Freda Marie, a brilliant African-American woman and the assisting priest at my parish, asked us if we knew why the day was special, other than it being Sunday? Mine was the lone hand raised. This particular bit of history was specific to Texas, and …

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Lent in the Wilderness

It's been a wilderness-y Lent. For the first time in maybe twenty years I am not affiliated with a parish and thus not busy with Wednesday Lenten Soup Suppers, programs, or public outreach projects, all the things that an Episcopal parish does during Lent, all the preparations I would normally be knee deep in heading …

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Helicopter-Crash Parenting

Praise the Lord for Caller ID and Voice Mail, which now spares us from the calls which eat our brains. As soon as I heard about the college admissions scandal, I remembered this: "Oh God, it's her again, isn't it?" "Yep. I'm not answering her anymore. I can't help her. You can't help her. No …

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Pieces of Racism, Falling Into Place

So many years ago I don't like to admit, I was a Bank Teller. It was so long ago that I did not have a computer at my station, nor a bill counter; I counted the money by hand, and kept track of cash via two carbon pads called Debits and Credits. This was just …

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Ash Wednesday’s Angel

She was slender, in a coat too big for her and with a mop of dark hair in need of a good brushing. She might have been a small ten year old, and it was clear English was her second language as she handed me a note and asked, "Please you help?" Paul's eyebrow rose …

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The Cat’s Social Contract

When Paul speaks for our horrible cat, Ivan the (recently) Terrible, he does so in the voice of Stewie from Family Guy.  My internal voice for Ivan has become Sheldon from Big Bang Theory, complete with voluminous Roommate Agreement and it's many Amendments, all written without our input or agreement. It may be unwritten but, …

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The Percival Moment

Last night, Paul and I were dropping off a Home Depot bucket full of cleaning products at our priest's house, and Mother Leslie was thanking us for contributing. A couple of other parishioners are driving a truck, stuffed with cleaning supplies, de-humidifiers, and fans, down to Houston today.  I told her no worries, we always …

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The Chasm Between Us

Reblogging this from my friend, Fr. Mark Abdelnour, who teaches here about the chasms between people. Wherever you are, consider crossing the chasm, whatever that means to you, between you and someone(s) on “the other side”. You might actually need only go half way – people will often meet us half way. At least that’s been my experience – when I’ve been open to instruction, truly listening, folks are often patient and kind.
This year has seemed a very divisive one, to me. Such a lot of yelling. Not a lot of listening. The man-made chasms stretch out between God’s people. So I commend to you these wise words of a good man.

– Carole

Irmo Rector

a sermon for the 19th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 21C)

When the rich man died, he begged Father Abraham to send Lazarus down to comfort him.  But a great chasm separated them.  But where did it come from and could anyone ever get across?

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