Daily Archives: March 15, 2009

Faith and Spirituality, Our Land and Home, Politics, Writing

After the Service

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Imbolc            Waning Moon of Winds

To follow up on the morning jitters.  At the end of my American Identity sermon I received an unusual and rare compliment: everyone clapped.  I took time on the way in to center myself and become part of the beautiful day underway.  As I got more centered, I remembered that I had never served and never intended to serve as a parish clergy.

Why?  Because my views occupy one end of a spectrum, the far left edge.  In the Presbyterian community they perceived me as a prophet, so much so that when I left back in 1990, the Presbytery bought a large print of a Jewish prophet and gave it to me in a nice frame.  Oh, yeah.  That was my place.

I recall a 1972 sermon at Brooklyn Center United Methodist Church on July 4th.  After I got done calling the congregation to patriotic resistance to the war, I went back to stand by the door and shake hands.  The congregation split like the Red Sea and went everywhere but where I was.  I’m that guy.

This sermon has a radical message to and it received resistance today, but in a much gentler and more dialogical way than that one 37 years ago.  I’ve learned some and this community of people knows me well, so we can disagree and still remain friends.

As Popeye used to say, I y’am what I y’am.

Faith and Spirituality

62 And Still Worried About High School

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Imbolc                Waning Wild Moon

Leaving for St. Paul in a few minutes.  Managed to work myself into an anxious state.  Wonderful.

The day itself has glorious possibilities, bright and warming.

What I’m experiencing falls under the category of pre-tramautic stress syndrome; that is, stress caused by anticipation of an unlikely, but possible phenomenon.  Last night I wrote that I gave up wanting more speaking opportunities and that the work is its own reward.  True enough as far it goes, but I also want to be liked and know that my prickly, combative personality does not lend itself to the warm fuzzies of human interaction.  God, here I am, 62 and still worried about high school.

At my best I know and accept the path and the person I have become, but just before a public event, sometimes, like right now, I’m not at my best.  Anyhow, it helps to write it down, say it out loud.  Thanks for listening.