29 September 2007

Caminante walking tour

This morning I had free so I took a taxi (gringo price, way over what it should have been) back down to the central market where I could finish my Christmas shopping. I bought some more molas and some wonderful little baskets. But before I did that, I went on a walking tour of Cerro Ancon, the hill that is within in the former Canal Zone. I am not quite sure if they call it as such any more since the canal reverted to Panamá in 1999. Nonetheless, I wandered around

First on the tour is the Anglican Cathedral of San Lucas. It is on the edge of Ancon. tomorrow night (or tonight, since it's past midnight now on Sunday morning), the bishop of Panama is having the clergy of the diocese and all the members of the IARCA-TEC covenant committee to his house (the yellow house beyond the cathedral) for dinner. He may also figure out how we can see the canal.

As I walked up Ancon, I managed to see the ciudad de Panamá through the trees. It has a lot of high rises now.

I walked down the other side of the Cerro Ancon (that has all these signs against the privatisation of Ancon and the construction of a telepherique) to the Canal Administration Building. I knew that somewhere in and around there you could see the canal, the Bridge of the Americas and a set of a stairs that led to a statue of Gotthals (sp) but unlike 20 years, I didn't see how I could go around to the front of the building because of all the security barriers. So this is all I could see of the canal. Meanwhile, there is a new bridge (not in the photo), the Millennium Bridge that from afar looks like the bridge in Boston that is part of the Big Dig.

Since it's way, way past my bedtime, I won't write more. Bed is a relative thing -- just like last night, there will be LOUD ANNOYING DRUMS and MUSIC until 3.30 in the morning. Sleeping is not something that I am supposed to do in this hotel. I pray that tomorrow it will be quiet again. I give the hotel a D- for quiet. (Figure that last night it was so bad that I took the bedspread off the bed and slept on the floor in the bathroom with the door shut. That won't work tonight because the music is coming from a reception down the hallway instead of being outside. Carumba.)

Maybe exhaustion will take over.

Tomorrow, maybe fotos of la misa at Padre Mickey's church.

Nueva entrada

If you go to a Spanish-speaking country, you get to do all your blogging in Spanish. So here we are, adding a new entry... from Panamá!

These are the behind-the-scenes photos of my first day in Panamá with Padre Mickey and the Lovely Mona who are world-class hosts. Mona also is an amazing driver since in Panamá all rules of the road are negotiable at best and forgotten at worst. She goes with the flow, unflappable.

First, off to the market where the Kuña people sell molas, reverse appliqué designs. It is so hard to choose just one, or two, or three, or four. I am doing Christmas shopping so can justify spending so much. This woman was gracious in putting up with the negocios. She is holding a mola I got for my mother, whose 80th birthday is today. ¡Saludos, mama!

Then off to San Cristóbal. You've seen lots of photos of that but I will surely have some to post on Sunday after church because I will be there for the 7.30 and 10.30 masses (English where I preach and Spanish where I preside).

But here's the photo you all want to see: How Padre Mickey does the Mr Red Peanut editions. La Señorita Chompita Wiggletail is an able assistant. Cheese, crackers, fish and rum are behind them.

More later from la bella Panamá.

27 September 2007

Notes from Limbo


So I am three hours into an eight-plus hour layover in Atlanta. Eventually I am going to have to get up from my perch here and wander around, get something to eat and then walk around this vast airport. In another two or three hours, maybe the gate for my flight will be posted.

The things one does for the church (!).

Ay, the last time I had as long a layover was at Logan Boston en route to France for the second part of the Chemin de Saint Jacques. Then I wasn't doing much exploring (partly because we couldn't get into the security area with the stores and restaurants until we had gotten checked through and the ticket counter didn't open until mid afternoon -- we got there at 8.00 or so) because of having broken two toes the week before. So we tried to sleep on the chairs, wrapping ourselves around the chair arms.

My internet will get chopped off in two hours. The pay-for internet sites are so duplicitous (this is Boingo). They tell you for $7.95 you get unlimited access in the airport for 24 hours. After they've snarfed your money, they then tell you oh well, not really. My air time expires after four hours. It is a total rip off.

Nonetheless, I have set up shop by an outlet and am doing as much email as possible before I get cut off.

Burlington VT, Portland OR don't subject their travellers to this sort of nonsense; they have free wifi.

26 September 2007

My little helper


The cats know I am going away. Young Guy likes small spaces so it didn't surprise me to see him in my suitcase. I let him be... if I can't take the cats with me, I can at least take their fur.

I will take all your saludos with me. Rumour has it there may be a special edition of Mr Red Peanut Bank on Friday so stay tuned.

Meanwhile, behave ;)

24 September 2007

Soon


Soon, like the end of this week, I will be in Panamá for the first time in 20 years. And I will do my major Christmas shopping by going to the mola cooperative in Panamá City (or wherever it is... I went there 20 years ago but don't have a sense of where it was other than it seemed close to Balboa, which is close to the canal).

The Kuna people make molas which are reverse appliqué designs. They are fanciful and sometimes whimsical. The women wear beaded bracelets; I got one in 1987 and managed to keep it going until the following year. I like the designs of the bracelets, too.

Here's an example of a mola. I have a bunch that I have collected over the years. I have an orange/black/white piece I use to cover my computer keyboard, a bunch of little patches, some pillows (hibiscus and cats) and then five fancy molas in my dining room. Lots of fun. I just hope I don't break the bank when I go to the coop.

23 September 2007

I could have predicted this


Compa is flying home from New Orleans, having spent four days there with some Episcopal communicators working on rebuilding houses and travelling to Mississippi.

She had a lay-over in Newark. Need I say more? Newark on a Sunday night?

She called ten minutes ago, from the plane, yes, the pilot said people could use their mobiles, to say that there are FIFTY, 5-0, planes in front of them. Take off could be anywhere from an hour or hour and fifty minutes after their scheduled departure time which was supposed to be 21.05. It's then an hour and a half to Burlington and an hour drive to the house here. Late night.

Why am I not at all surprised?

It is precisely for this reason, the constant back-ups at Newark, that I chose an 8h46 minute lay-over in Atlanta going to Panama so that I wouldn't get stuck in Newark when I return at night.

EWR, Newark ought to have over its portals: Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

Yertle the Turtle and the Anglican Communion


Remember Dr Seuss' Yertle the Turtle?

The story revolves around a turtle named Yertle (hence the name of the book) who is the king of a pond. He commands the other turtles to stack themselves beneath him so he may have a throne high enough to see and rule over more land "'most a mile" around.

A little turtle named Mack, who is standing at the bottom of the pile, complains, "I know, up on top you are seeing great sights, but down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights." Yertle refuses to listen to Mack's pleas and commands more and more turtles to add to his throne. When Yertle notices the moon rise above him as the night approaches, he decides to call for 5,607 more turtles for the stack to try to rise above it. However, before he can give the command, Mack, strained and angry, burps, shaking the stack of turtles and tossing Yertle off into the mud. The story ends with: "And the turtles, of course... all the turtles are free, As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be." (Wikki; go here to read the entire story)

The way things are going with the House of Bishops meeting and the various rumours coming out of it (like signing onto the demands of the non-binding, though trumped up Windsor Report and ceding to the demands of the primates articulated at Dar es Salaam), the discussion over at Fr Jake's place about withdrawing from Lambeth, and other blogs makes me feel as though this stack of turtles, known as the 'unity' (otherwise known as 'uniformity') of the Anglican Communion, the power of the primates and certain factions of the church, is being built on the back of the LGBT community. We are Mack way down there at the bottom of the pile.

So, the question is, when and how is the LGBT community going to burp and throw all these turtles back down into the mud with the rest of us so that they will realise that we all are free and EQUAL?

Proper 20C

If I were to ask you, ‘What is the main point of this morning’s parable?’ how would you answer? At first hearing, it seems as though Jesus is commending the steward for ripping off his master, doesn’t it? To further our confusion, if you look up this parable in a Bible, often it is entitled, ‘The dishonest steward’ instead of the ‘shrewd steward.’ So why is this man commended to our attention?

The parable is just bizarre. The notice comes in the morning to the steward. He has just heard he is going to be investigated. He knows this will lead to his dismissal. He sits down. He has no time to lose. He will need his friends in ways that he has never needed before. He needs help, protection and support. So he calls those in debt to his master and sits them down. He explains his predicament. He tells them, ‘Now the books can still be changed. Tomorrow will be too late. What percentage will you give me if I change them?’ He generously alters their debts after some haggling. The books are closed, changed. Everything is handled in time.

When the master discovers the steward’s strategy, he faces a genuine dilemma. If he changes the steward’s new contracts, as he is legally entitled to do because they are unlawful, he will alienate the renters and the entire village (who has undoubtedly heard about the marvellous estate manager who reduced their debts). In fact, the village has already been celebrating the master’s generosity!

If the master allows the reduced contracts to stand, he will be short of produce (the means by which people paid off their debts), but his honour will spread far and wide (as well as the honour of the shrewd steward for arranging these deals). People will praise the noble and generous landowner and in the Mediterranean of Jesus’ time, honour was wealth. (1)

So the master applauds the shrewd steward, and everyone lives happily ever after.

What is going on here?

Some commentaries write this parable off as not worth trying to redeem; the message is too negative. But, in the interest of stretching our minds, let’s not dismiss it but try to find something useful from it.

+

An email to the House of Bishops/Deputies list serve yesterday gave me the genesis for a different way of looking at this parable:

‘In the Gospel for this Sunday, James Breech reminds us that the parable is not about the dishonest steward, as the church has named it, but the rich man who had no concern for his wealth. He seems to live out of a radical freedom that was as prodigal as the father of the self-absorbed son in the parable preceding it. What does this parable say to us who struggle to discern God’s call to us as Church, as disciples of Christ?’

+

What would living without concern for our wealth look like? What would living out of a radical freedom that is prodigal look like?

Out in cyberspace, there’s a website called Global Rich List (www.globalrich.org). There’s a box for you to type in your annual income. For academics, I typed in $35000 (I think that is what my total package comes up to). Here’s what I came up with:

[I land at the fifth person from the right]

The site informs me:

RICHER THAN YOU THINK?
You’re the 277,391,305 richest person in the world.
You're in the TOP 4.62% richest people in the world!

The site continues:

How do you feel about that? A bit richer we hope. Richer and ready to give some of your newly found wealth to those who need it most. It not hard — just slip your hand in your pocket and pull out something special. Something that can help redress the balance — and also make you feel uncommonly good. Many people’s lives could be happier if you donated just one hour’s salary (approx $18.69 — UK estimate).

All you have to do is make a choice.

$8 could buy you 15 organic apples OR 25 fruit trees for farmers in Honduras to grow and sell fruit at their local market.

$30 could buy you an ER DVD Boxset OR a First Aid kit for a village in Haiti.

$73 could buy you a new mobile phone OR a new mobile health clinic to care for AIDS orphans in Uganda.

$2400 could buy you a second generation High Definition TV OR schooling for an entire generation of school children in an Angolan village.

+

Maybe the point of the website is to shame us into sharing our wealth. But I would like to take James Breecher’s idea and think about how, despite real money concerns, we have a freedom that many don’t. I do not want to minimise the fact that many here in town live on the edge; that many stand just one major illness or accident from going under; that 75% of the elementary school children in our town are eligible for free lunches and 50% of the high school children are also eligible; that there are homeless kids here; that the demands on CERV [Community Emergency Resource Volunteers] are increasingly yearly. These are all very real concerns. But there are some of us who, though we may not be raking in money the way a Wall Street futures investor might, are still far more wealthy than most of the people of the world.

I am always painfully aware of my wealth when I go to El Salvador. The mere fact that I can afford a $700 air ticket says something. The mere fact that I have advanced degrees in two fields says something. So whenever I start to freak out about money, as I am wont to do, I gently kick myself mentally as a reminder that I really am not poor. In that realisation I become free and therefore can unclench my tight fists around the wealth I have… because it all comes from God and to God I give back. The way to give back is outreach — donations to organisations such as ERD (www.er-d.org), Cristosal (www.cristosal.org), CHABHA (www.chabha.org) or any of those groups working with locals to better their lives; time given to the church or community service groups; and, yes, prayer. All of these forms of outreach matter and make a difference.

You have heard me say many times the words of Dom Helder Camarra: None are so poor that they cannot give; none are so rich that they cannot receive. You have also heard me say Oscar Romero’s words: Each of us can make a difference.

Take those two sayings and internalise them. Find ways you can give of your abundance. Discern how you, too, can be free in heart and spirit to give prodigiously to others what God has given you. For it is in given that you receive… abundantly.


END NOTE
(1) The exegetical portion comes from John C. Pilch, The Cultural World of Jesus: Sunday by Sunday, Cycle C (Collegevillle, MN: Liturgical Press, 1997), 139-41.

22 September 2007

A glimpse of hope?


First, a disclaimer: for those who might gloat and say, 'See? Mac users have problems too!.' I reply that in this case, it's not the computer's fault; it is a five-year old computer and I have simply collected too much stuff to put on its hard drive.

In any event, in this new world known as the blogosphere, I got a good suggestion from Pseudopisky: get another hard drive for the computer. Amazingly, OWC (Out of this World Computing) has an 80G drive for an ancient computer like mine.

So when I get back from Panamá (where I will visit Padre Mickey and the Lovely Mona!), I will upgrade. May even do the processor, too.

21 September 2007

What's he saying?


[photo: Episcopal Life Online]

Somehow our PB looks less than thrilled at what the ABC is saying.

Or maybe it's indigestion after hearing the words of the Bishop of Jerusalem. Again, the HOB is getting a lot of pressure to choose uniformity at the expense of GLBTs instead of communion (freedom and/in diversity).

It's enough to give you d'aggia (?).

Friday night shuffle


Kate Bush • Nocturn (Aerial)
The Rankin Family • Rise Again
Simon and Garfunkel • The Dangling Conversation
Willie and Lobo • Manaña
Miriam Makeba • Saduva
Mercedes Sosa • Como Parajos en el Aire
Voices of Ascension • Justorum Animæ
Gladys Knight and the Pips • Night Train to Georgia
KT Tunstall • False Alarm
Enya • Shepherd Moon

It's again, a fairly mellow mix (gee, is that all I have? No, really). The Rankin Family comes from Nova Scotia. Their brother who played the violin died in a car crash several years ago and I don't think they've put out anything since then. The woman has an incredibly high soprano voice. Everyone else is pretty mainstream.

Friday cat blogging (abridged)


I was going to whip up a whole bunch of photos but given that all memory seems to be at a premium now, I will put up just this one.

This week sometime, as I was sitting at my desk, I heard a chirp behind me. Anyone who has cats knows that chirps can mean, 'Look!' or can express surprise. In this case, it was the former.

Young Guy adores corn husks. I always have to put them at the bottom of the garbage can and make sure the kitchen cabinets are shut with a bungee cord. That doesn't stop him from getting in anyway, tipping over the can even in that small amount of space.

And so he had and fetched himself a corn husk which he dutifully carried upstairs (that means going from the back of the house to the front and up), and deposited behind me. His chirp said, 'Look at my prize!'

I shall say that I was a meanie and took it away because when a cat or dog eats grass, it always means a mess later on.

441 posts later


Today makes a year since I started blogging. 441 posts later, I find myself in a bit of a panic, which precludes anything else I was going to write or do tonight.

My 20G G4, purchased 5 years ago, warned me tonight that I did not have enough free space on the hard drive to start up; all that was left was 845.5 megs (! figure that the previous computer only had 660 megs!). It's all filled up with music, of course, and what I loaded in tonight was enough to tip the scales.

I started then to transfer my music files over to my OWC 20G external hard drive but looked (when I got to the 'H's) and saw that all that is left on that is 4.5G.

So everything has ground to a halt.

I threw out a bunch of music files of CDs I own knowing that I can always reload them. And I have unplugged the cord so that I can't accidently automatically sync the iPod.

I gained back a whopping 850 megs, enough to bring me up to 1.5G free on the hard drive.

My laptop, the untrustable laptop, only has 10G free because it's a 20G, too.

I won't be able to make any decisions tonight or even before I leave for Panamá.

When I return, I will have to. A new computer? I don't have that sort of money. A new hard drive for this (I am sure they are out there)? That means I would still have to transfer all the data from one to another.

And I had just thought tonight that I was quite happy with this computer and saw no need to upgrade. Fatal mistake.

La vida nunca está sencilla.

20 September 2007

All in a day's/night's work


So, here I am, rector of a small congregation in a valley in Vermont. People think that a priest prays all the time, right? (Well, I do, but it is not on my knees in the church.) They think that when I am not doing sacramental acts, I am reading for and writing the next sermon.

Nah. Not here. They know better.

They know I have been on my stomach on Christmas Eve morning peering into the guts of the dead furnace, discussing with the furnace repairman how we can jury-rig the thing so we can limp through Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Christmas I, Feast of the Holy Name, and Epiphany. (If the vestry can get through four months without the word, 'furnace' on the agenda, then we are doing well... though 2/3 of the old furnaces have been replaced in my time). They know I have spent HOURS snow shovelling the ramp. And so forth.

Add to the list being sexton and garbage hauler.

Our sexton quit (though the letter was dated two weeks ahead of time, I didn't get it until one week ahead of her quitting) in late August. We still haven't found anyone for the job. That wasn't an issue during August and early September, but now that our nursery school is open, it is.

That means the parish house (one room) needs to be cleaned Sunday afternoons and Thursday nights after 9.00 PM because we have a 12-step group that meets there.

You know where this is going.

In half an hour, I will go over, take out the trash (last week, no one put liners in the garbage cans, so I had to clean out probably three pots of coffee grounds), clean the toilets, bleach (or whatever) the counters and sweep the floors.

If I don't, not only will the garbage cans explode but I will hear about the cleanliness or lack thereof from the nursery school (though since they know I am doing Thursday nights, they may cut me some slack).

As my roommate in grad school used to say, 'Oh joy, oh rapture.'

19 September 2007

The Sisyphus Files, Fall


So, it is once again time to think about the Woodpile.

No wood, no heat.

No heat, an unhappy and uncomfortable Compa.

But when are we going to find the time to get wood to create a woodpile?

It's not just splitting and stacking the wood, it's felling dead trees back in the woods, dragging the trees from the woods, and uphill to the splitting block.

If I am not around, there's no chainsawing. That's a mandatory law in our household.

When we do chainsaw, I buck the wood (which is how I ran afoul of the chainsaw three years ago this time of year). We cut the tree trunks and branches into stove-length pieces. They all go into a heap that we then pile until we split it whereupon it goes into another pile.

The adage says one shouldn't touch anything after three times. But with wood, it's at least four or five times because the green wood goes into the outermost pile, the one-year old wood goes into a nearer pile and the oldest wood goes into the wood shed by the house (which is a lean-to metal roof attached to the north end of the house). There, we have two rows, the oldest, oldest wood closest to the house and the not-yet oldest oldest in the outer stack.

Right now, there's nothing to haul, nothing to chop, nothing to split, nothing to stack.

We're in big trouble.

[For some reason, the gif isn't moving as it has on other times: the little figure pushes the earth up to the top of the hill, it slides down and the little figure goes running after it, actually, sliding after it.]

Of vices and bishops


Until I get rid of this stupid head cold that makes my head feel as though it is in a vice, I don't have much to say. I see that the overall Episcopalian blogosphere is also quieter. Maybe we're all exhausted from the speculation and angst over this week's House of Bishops meeting.

Compa will be down in NOLA with a bunch of communicators and has a press pass to the big do at the Morial Convention Center where the ABC hisself will be speaking. So I will get some first-hand reporting.

18 September 2007

Dream On


I caught the words on the radio this morning '100 miles.' It can only mean one thing: it is going to be so gorgeous out today, so clear, that one will be able to see 100 miles from the summits of our mountains. And I am going to be inside all day at clergy day, standing committee and vestry. Wah! Yeah, I have to work to pay the bills but, oh, to know that it is going to be such a good day when they become increasingsly rare is a killer.

So, instead, I miss an old photo taken 0.4 miles from the summit of Mount Washington, looking toward Vermont, beyond the wall of the Great Gulf with Mount Jefferson in the background. On that day, we could see back to Camels Hump. (Without a filter, there's no way the camera can capture that.)

17 September 2007

Ay, ay, ay


I am not listening to any music right now (though maybe at the end I will give the lineup for the next ten on my shuffle). The cold has moved into my head such that it is in my right (hearing) ear (never the left, deaf one, of course). I can't hear anything and am so glad that I don't have to get into an airplane tomorrow because the pressure changes would be quite painful. (Actually, my ear feels as though it is being squeezed by headphones.) Consequently, tengo pocas palabras.

Shuffle for a Monday night

Zacarías Ferreira • Chica De Mi Barrio (Bachata)
Crosby, Stills and Nash • Our House
Neil Young • Cowgirl in the sand
Mozart • Symphony No. 40
Joni Mitchel • Help Me
Philip Aaberg • Lou Ann (High Plains)
John Taverner • Cycle 1: Primordial Call (Veil of the Temple)
Maná • La puerta azul
Genesis • Counting out time
REM • Perfect Circle

It's a pretty mellow shuffle and it's funny to have CS&N next to Neil Young.

16 September 2007

Proper 19C


In this part of the Gospel according to Luke, there are three stories about the lost: the story of the lost sheep; the story of the lost coin; and the story of the lost son (the prodigal son). In each story God has a priority to find that which is lost, those who are lost. God drops everything, as it were, and goes to seek them. There is no-one who is unredeemable, no-one who is dispensable.

This morning, I will tell you a modern-day parable of extravagant searching.

Kate Braestrup, mother of four, young widow of a Maine state trooper, Unitarian Universalist minister, serves the state of Maine in its Warden Service as its first chaplain. We think of wardens as the people who make sure we have the proper licenses to fish or hunt, who go around our lakes and ponds on outboard boats. But they are also the people who, when there is a missing person or accident, rescue or recover the victims.

Braestrup describes a typical search-and-rescue incident in her recent book, Here If You Need Me: A True Story:

So I showed up, not so long ago, in a small Maine community. An elderly woman, an Alzheimer’s patient — let’s call her Corrine — had wandered off, and the P[oint] L[ast] S[een] was near the woods.

The wardens had established a command post at the fire station, and by the time I got there, it was swarming with men and women in green uniforms.… Nate and the overhead team had their laptops and maps organized, teams had already been sent forth with GPS units. (Earlier on in the book, one learns how the wardens set out the territory on a grid and with the use of GPS can account for every square inch searched.) A small army of volunteers was assembling at the firehouse, eager to assist the wardens in their search.

Some of the volunteers could lay claim to a certain level of applicable expertise. There were emergency service providers of various kinds: local firefighters, off-duty sheriff’s deputies and town cops, and woods-savvy members of the local rod and gun club. The volunteer Maine search and rescue dog teams, those middle-aged hobbyists with their fine, trained dogs, had arrived in force.

Then there were the less obviously skilled: A half dozen elderly backwoods guys in torn flannel shirts, a gaggle of college students with unfortunate piercings, some overweight Elks, and a Shriner or two. The members of a local equestrian club appeared with their horses. Also present were the owner of a stained-glass studio and her domestic partner; a retired state trooper; and a state senator with his teenage daughter in tow.

The high school varsity soccer team abandoned its late-summer practice to come out to search, along with a bunch of U.S. Marines, who had been cooling their heels in Bangor, awaiting transshipment to Iraq. And, arriving in a van with wire-mesh reinforced windows and under the direct supervision of a guard, was a group of men in neon yellow shirts, inmates from the Downeast Correctional Facility, a prison primarily though not exclusively reserved for sex offenders.
Corrine’s son, Jim, able-bodied and fiftyish, announced that searching the woods for his mom would be less stressful than just sitting around waiting. So Jim was put on a team as well.

Those members of the community too old or obviously out-of-shape to search set up shop in the firehouse kitchen and commenced to cooking.

The wardens gave each search team a map and an area to search. Each team had a xeroxed photograph of Corinne, a white-haired lady smiling vaguely at the camera. Each team had a handheld GPS unit, so their movements would be precisely recorded. The search dogs would go into the woods to nose the rich air, seeking the signature flavors of human life or human death. The horses would clip-clop along the railroad bed, their riders’ high vantage point giving them a nice view down into the shrubbery of either side. Local teens on ATVs would roar up and down the dirt roads and logging trails. Foot searchers would spend the morning hacking through deadfall and bogs, working their way in long, slow lines across blueberry barrens and along cliff edges and riverbanks.

It was hard going. The terrain was rough. The weather turned ugly. Rain fell, and still they searched. Everyone one wanted to find the woman in the picture. Even those who had never met her wanted to find her.… At the very least, they wanted to know what had become of her.

Eventually… [U]ntidy searchers return to the firehouse for lunch. They are tired, cold, and very hungry. They are greeted with platters of lasagna, bowls of coleslaw, tottering piles of oatmeal cookies, and jiggling, jewel-colored Jell-O salads.…

Jim comes back to the firehouse with a heavy heart. He has scratches on his cheek, twigs in his hair, pine needles down his pants, and his mother is still nowhere to be found. Yet he takes in the scene before him, mops the rain from his face, and smiles.

“Look at this,” he says. “Look at this! This is incredible.”

The firehouse is filled with people. The old coots in flannel shirts, the middle-aged dog handlers, and the college students with piercings are sharing American chop suey with the state senator and his teenage daughter. The U.S. Marines are comparing blisters with the soccer players, the sheriff’s deputies are breaking bread with the convicts, game wardens share Jell-O with equestrians, the stained-glass artist offers the retired state trooper an oatmeal cookie.
… “Everyone in the world is here,” the lost woman’s son exclaims. “It’s a miracle!”

Braestrup explains what lies underneath this scene: love. “Through the very effort of searching for her, they had begun to love her a little, to love, Corinne, the mother of Jim.” She further reminds us gently: “You will know enough to look around for love. It will be there, standing right on the hinge, holding out its arms to you. If you are wise, whoever you are, you will let go, fall against that love, and be held.” (1)

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If we human beings can mount such searches for another lost person, just imagine how many times over God will search for us, whether we look for God’s love, whether we fall into God’s love or not. God’s love and mercy are greater than all of our lost-ness. God’s love that won’t give up on us, even when we have strayed away, is the miracle that underlies all the searches in our lives. And when God finds us, there is great rejoicing in heaven.


END NOTE
(1) Kate Braestrup, Here If You Need Me: A True Story (New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company, 2007), 206-11.

15 September 2007

A cloudy Saturday

I don't have a lot to say today because I have the fall grungies so I will put up photos.

The ramp is finally finished! I have a stairway to heaven. No longer do I walk on two planks of wood that bounce up and down and get slick when it's icy. I have a nice handrail to keep me from slipping and sliding. (Now if only this could be said of the Anglican Communion.) To celebrate, I bought some mums to put out front.

The clouds/skies have been most dramatic this afternoon which has afforded some good opportunities for photos. This is looking to the north from the stairway.

This looks out another window to the north. Never mind the rusty roofs. I thought they were going to be painted this weekend. Soon, soon.

And this is looking west. Even now, half an hour later, there are still grey clouds with a little bit of sun coming through. I've enjoyed the changing skies. But it definitely is getting into fall; every day the tree leaves change just a bit more.

14 September 2007

Look at this!!!


From Panamá to Vermont, this humble blog has been discovered by the world-famous Mr Red Peanut of Padre Mickey's Dance Party fame.

Way cool.

Even better, it shows up on a Mac.

It's as good as the Infinite Cat Project.

Friday Cat Blogging early afternoon edition

A Friday collection of the Unholy Three.

See how many cats you can find in this photo.

Young Guy is determined to get the feathers even though I have moved them to the other end of the bookcase from where they used to be. Now they are on the second shelf below him, behind the photo of La UCA in San Salvador.

Whoops! Orange Guy tries to turn around on the banister and almost falls off.

On one of the cooler days Young Guy takes over the throw quilt on the rocking chair in my study.

La Doyenne performs a public service by attacking and killing the balrog that was threatening my rowing machine (why did she go after the materials? Midnight cat crazy time).

Presiding Bishop speaks about HOB meeting


Check out this video in which our presiding bishop talks about the upcoming House of Bishops' meeting in New Orleans, the Anglican Commuion and the Anglican Consultative Council.

Today's NYT Editorial


The New York Times
No Exit, No Strategy
Published: September 14, 2007

This was the week in which Americans hoped they would get straight talk and clear thinking on Iraq. What they got was two exhausting days of Congressional testimony by the American military commander, hours of news conferences and interviews, clouds of cut-to-order statistics and a speech from the Oval Office — and none of it either straight or clear.

The White House insisted that President Bush had consulted intensively with his generals and adapted to changing circumstances. But no amount of smoke could obscure the truth: Mr. Bush has no strategy to end his disastrous war and no strategy for containing the chaos he unleashed.

Last night’s speech could have been given any day in the last four years — and was delivered a half-dozen times already. Despite Mr. Bush’s claim that he was offering a way for all Americans to “come together” on Iraq, he offered the same divisive policies — repackaged this time with the Orwellian slogan “return on success.”

Mr. Bush’s claim that things were going so well in Iraq that he could “accept” his generals’ recommendation for a “drawdown” of forces was a carnival barker’s come-on. The Army cannot sustain the 30,000 extra troops Mr. Bush sent to Iraq beyond mid-2008 without serious damage to its fighting ability. From the start, the president said that the increase would be temporary. That’s why he called it a “surge.”

Before he spoke, Iraq’s brutal reality had debunked the claims of political and military success made by Gen. David Petraeus, the top American commander in Iraq, and Ryan Crocker, the ambassador in Baghdad. First, The Times reported that the only sliver of political progress — a tortuous compromise on sharing oil revenues — was evaporating. Then came news of the assassination of the Anbar tribal leader whose decision to fight alongside the Americans was cited by Mr. Bush as proof that the war’s tide was turning — even though it had nothing to do with the increase in forces.

Mr. Bush’s claims last night about how well the war is going are believable only if you use Pentagon numbers so obviously cooked that they call to mind the way Americans were duped into first supporting this war.

There will be a lot said in coming days about Mr. Bush’s “new strategy,” just as there was after each of his previous major addresses on the war. If there was a new strategy, it would be easy to recognize. Mr. Bush would drop the meaningless talk of victory and stop trying to sell Americans the fiction that the war keeps them safe from terrorism. (To his credit, General Petraeus declined to adopt that bit of propaganda.) Instead, Mr. Bush would do what the vast majority of Americans want — plan an orderly withdrawal while doing what he can to mitigate the consequences of the war.

Mr. Bush was right when he said last night that the aftermath of withdrawal would be bloody and frightening, but that is a product of his invasion and his gross mismanagement of the aftermath. Mr. Bush’s endless insistence on staying the course will only make Iraq more bloody and frightening.

If Mr. Bush had a new strategy, he would have talked to the American people last night about what he would do to draw Iraq’s neighbors into a solution. Last January, when he announced the troop increase, Mr. Bush promised to “use America’s full diplomatic resources to rally support for Iraq from nations throughout the Middle East.” The world is still waiting.

A strategy for ending the war would include real efforts to hold Iraq’s government to verifiable measures of political conciliation — and make clear to Iraq’s leaders that they cannot count on America’s indefinite and unquestioning protection.

A real shift in strategy would have included an effort to deal with the massive problem of refugees. Nine months after the surge began, ever more Iraqis are being driven from their homes — and Mr. Bush never even mentioned them last night.

If Mr. Bush were serious about ending the war, rather than threatening Iran and Syria, he would make a serious effort to persuade them that they too have a lot to lose from a disintegrating Iraq. And he would enlist the help of the leaders of Britain, France and Germany for serious negotiations. Then, perhaps, Mr. Bush’s promise from January to stanch the flow of men and weapons into Iraq from Iran and Syria would not have sounded so hollow.

Once again, it is clear that Mr. Bush refuses to recognize the truth of his failure in Iraq and envisions a military commitment that has no end. Congress must use its powers to expose the truth and demand a real change in strategy. Democratic leaders, forever parsing polls, are backing away from proposals to impose a deadline for withdrawal and tinkering with small ideas that mostly sound like ways to enable the president’s strategy of delay.

The presidential candidates, as well, have a duty to take Iraq head-on. Some Democrats have started to talk in some detail about how they would end the war, but the burden is not just on the war critics. Republicans like Rudolph Giuliani and John McCain, who love to proclaim their support for the president and hide behind the troops, need to explain their vision as well. What do they think would constitute victory in Iraq, and how, precisely, do they intend to achieve it?

After all, it seems the burden of ending the war will fall to the next president. Mr. Bush was clear last night — as he was when he addressed the nation in January, September of last year, the December before that and in April 2004 — that his only real plan is to confuse enough Americans and cow enough members of Congress to let him muddle along and saddle his successor with this war that should never have been started.

Friday Cat Blogging Early Edition


From Roswell NM

Justin Koonce, firefighter for the Roswell Fire Department, descends a ladder after rescuing a kitten from a tree in the backyard of Jeanette Schaffer at 701 W. 9th Wednesday with the assistance of three of his colleagues below. Schaffer, who was unsure who the cat belonged to, said a dog had chased it up the tree about a day or so ago and that the mother cat alerted her to the kittens' presence Tuesday evening by circling the tree and meowing throughout the night. Schaffer called the Roswell Fire Department and asked if they still rescued cats stranded in trees and the fire department said yes, they do.

Love those claws. That's why fire fighters wear such thick jackets.

When my parent's cat, Tycho, got treed for three days by the 'Bad Cat,' as we called him, we searched and searched the yard. We could hear him crying but couldn't locate the sound. Finally, we saw this black ball of fur high up in a tree. We managed to cajole him to come down a little so he'd be within reach of the ladder. My father then went up the ladder, wearing thick work gloves and a work jacket and, at that, got pretty clawed up by a frantic, scared kitty. Poor Tycho was so worn out by his meowing that he didn't talk for several days afterwards.

13 September 2007

WMD


I don't know why I torture myself by listening to the Weapon of Mass Deception. Penance? But for what?

No, it's so I can hear from that man's own mouth the delusional thinking that misguides him.

Does he really think that we can 'come together'? Does he really think this 'war will make us safer at home'? That if we leave Iraq, extremists will recruit more people, control more of the world energy supply, and encourage Iran to have 'nuculer' weapons?

Talk to Riverbend (if you could.. instead, read her blog or buy her books) to see if she thinks this war has been a good idea.

OH! He has obliquely mentioned 9-11. Just couldn't let that go by. And, of course, there are the usual words of 'evil' and 'good.'

Ah, so he says that the work will extend beyond his presidency. No kidding.

I hold respect for the office of president. But right now I do not hold any respect for the person occupying it.

And now, for Senator Jack Reid.

I can see for miles and miles

This afternoon, on a glorious early fall day, I took a quick hike up the mountain behind the church. The ridge rises on the east side of the valley in which the town resides. It's not super high, 2411 feet at the summit, but even from town, it's a steep hike up side streets that lead to an old slate quarry and an open field that used to be a farm. The view is satisfying for a simple 15-minute walk up. The field probably is at 1200 feet.

There is lots and lots of slate in these parts. Old houses have slate roofs (including the shed here) but as the slate falls apart, people replace the roofs with standing seam.

This quarry is fairly recent — within the past two years (which is the last time I walked up this way). Its existence explains all the dump trucks that would come down the side street past the rectory.

This is from the southern end of the field that is known as Cheney's farm. The name is an old town name; the ashes of one of the descendents are in the church's columbarium.

Looking west one sees this. The bump obscures Camels Hump; one has to get a lot higher in order to be able to see it.

A little further on, going north across the field, one looks toward the Worcester Range where Hunger Mountain is.

And here is a close-up of the Worcester Range. (Click on it for a larger image.)

In each photo, one can see the beginnings of fall... the leaves are beginning to change, taking on the oranges, yellows and browns (sometimes red if we are lucky).

A letter from the Historic Churches of El Salvador


Archbishop Martín Barahona of El Salvador represents the Anglican Episcopal Church of El Salvador in this ecumenical group. They issued this letter last week. [Original Spanish is below.]

Salvadoran Ecumenical Movement
CEIPES (Ecumenical Confederation of Churches of the Poor of El Salvador)

San Salvador, 3 September 2007


ALERT IN EL SALVADOR
The people are forsaken and scattered.
“When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”
Matthew 9:36

Pastoral Letter from the Historic Churches

To: All Salvadorans of good will
To: The three powers of the Salvadoran state: the executive, legislative and judicial branches
To: Churches throughout the world
To: Accredited Governments and Diplomatic Corps
To: The United Nations, the Organization of the American States, international organizations, and international solidarity groups

From this small country, the home of the prophet Oscar Arnulfo Romero, as historic Christian churches and Christian-ecumenical groups, we send this message to world-wide churches and religions and to men and women of good will, greeting you in our faith in the One God.

We name this letter, “Alert in El Salvador,” because we live from one crisis to the next, from one emergency to the next — emergencies caused by natural, political, economic and social phenomena. In light of all these emergencies and crises, our recommendation is “Be alert.” “Alert,” an expression of security, means to be awake, with attentive ears and a clear mind that can glimpse and distinguish the danger that is threatening us and denounce this sin, without forgetting that we also are called to proclaim the Good News of abundant and true life (Matthew 25:46 and Romans 1:17).

In the fifteen years that have passed since the Peace Accords, unjust life conditions persist due to a poor distribution of wealth. The country does not have adequate food and social security. The [United Nations] Millennium Development Goals cannot be accomplished; on the contrary, a generalized deepening of poverty exists. The government has totally abandoned agriculture and industry. Instead, a disproportionate increase in informal commerce is taking place. The principle source of sustenance comes from family “remittances;” almost three million Salvadorans have emigrated to the United States and other parts of the world. Our youth are victims of the violence that is worsening in our country. This violence embraces all classes and sectors of society. Institutionalized violence also facilitates organized crime, gangs, corruption and impunity. Indebtedness and low income continue among most social classes. When social and environmental groups protest, they are repressed and taken as political prisoners under the guise of “terrorists.” They are only people who are defending their right to live. [Note of translator: This last example refers to an incident that took place in July 2007 when 14 people were detained in Suchitoto as they protested the commercialization of water.]

The current situation alarms us: the constitutional process and state institutions have been violated. Principal elements of the right have distorted the constitution and universal jurisprudence with the approval of laws and reforms to the Penal Code in Article 348 by increasing penalties in a disproportionate manner to exact fear. We are concerned that, in cases of legitimate protests by different social sectors, they have responded with the measures of a totalitarian court. These laws transgress basic human, civil and environmental rights and are closing democratic spaces. The institutional system and current government function from a base of corruption, lies, violence and polarization that brings with it a high deterioration of the ethical and moral basis in their institutions, legality and, in general, of society as a whole.

We are alarmed above all that, when faced with public protest, the Salvadoran State uses the mechanism of counter-reaction by hardening the laws. More than discourse or public campaigns, the crisis in which we are living demands state politics that resolve problems with responsibility. This requires a serious and resolute inquiry on the part of the State and Government in order to lessen the different problems that are afflicting the Salvadoran people.

Our God of Life cannot agree with a State whose relationship with its citizens represents a dangerous political polarization that can lead to a larger confrontation and worsening of intolerance in the country. Jesus demands us to denounce the enormous suffering in which our people live. He shows us the profound love that holds us and calls us to raise our voices with force to give a message of hope. He inspires us to engage in joined, ecumenical action — peaceful but also energetic action — to confront this structural problem, because hardening laws and persecuting Salvadorans is not the way to solve these problems.

Again we must remind ourselves of Jesus’ words, “We are not created for the law but the law is created for us.” Our proposed mission is to change all conditions that violate people’s lives and to build relationships on the basis of truth, honesty, justice, responsibility and human solidarity. The sentiment of compassion and solidarity that Jesus had for his people is the same one that moves us today for ours, who are forsaken and scattered. We must build new relations where National Unity becomes a necessary and immediate process, because to do so is an ethical and evangelical mandate, God’s Justice with God’s people. For this reason, in the name of the God of Life, we ask Salvadorans — men and women — to make the decision with faith and without fear to bring about the Christian utopia and be with us in God’s reign (Isaiah 32:1-8).

We firmly commit ourselves to continue walking with and joining in the clamor of the poor, which shapes itself into public protest, warning those who flaunt the economic and political power in this country that there will be no possible reconciliation if the source of these ills is not eliminated (as the history of the world has shown). The hour has arrived to place the interests of the nation above those of individuals, groups and sectors, while at the same time giving up economic, political and religious patronage (Ephesians 4:3-4).

Finally, we ask the God of Life to give us the strength to respond coherently from our Faith and as committed Christians to continue to sow seeds of hope amongst ourselves and with those who will some day rest their hopes in ours. Let us work for consensus and action from all existing, productive and organized groups, becoming salt and light in this country for the construction of a society that is based on values of the Kingdom of God and that sustains a true democracy and a dignified life in better social, economic, and political conditions.

Our Pastoral Call:
(1) To the Salvadoran people: to sponsor a true coming together as a nation, making possible understanding among brothers and sisters and children of God (Isaiah 44:1-5) and forming a foundation for constructing a broad social movement of National Unity.

(2) To the academic and scientific sectors: to have a more active role in the discussion of, analysis of, and proposals for the direction that this country should follow to find alternatives to the crisis.

(3) To productive forces and to big business: to put forward policies that reactivate the productive base through the payment of taxes, so that all Salvadorans and, above all, young Salvadorans can find their future within our borders and not in far-off lands.

(4) To the political parties: to change the positions of confrontation and move to a responsible posture, proposing policies of the State that will contribute to providing direction to the country in development, socio-economic justice and social coexistence.

(5) To the powers of the state: to maintain executive, legislative and judicial independence, facilitate citizen participation by creating civic and democratic opportunities within the institutional framework so that Salvadorans might construct a better future.

(6) To all churches and religions of the country: to take on God’s compassionate love by actively accompanying this process of national consent where, in a preferential manner, our most poor and needy brothers and sisters will be the principal focus of a plan for a democratic and just country.

(7) To governments of the world, the United Nations, the Organization of American States, international organizations, the churches of the world, international solidarity, and our friends: We ask for your backing in solidarity to support in a definitive fashion the construction of a democratic model that will be a guarantee of peace with justice in El Salvador.

Signed.....

[translated by LAC]

Movimiento Ecuménico Salvadoreño

FECLAI- EL SALVADOR

SAN SALVADOR, 3 DE SEPTIEMBRE DE 2007

ALERTA EN El SALVADOR.
EL PUEBLO ESTA DESAMPARADO Y DISPERSO.

“ Y AL VER LAS MULTITUDES, TUVO COMASIÓN DE ELLAS;
POR QUE ESTABAN DESAMPARADAS Y DISPERSAS COMO
OVEJAS QUE NO TIENEN PASTOR.” - (SAN MATEO 9:36.) -
Carta pastoral de las Iglesias Históricas

A: Todos los Salvadoreños y Salvadoreñas de buena voluntad.
A: Los tres poderes del Estado Salvadoreño: Ejecutivo, Legislativo y Judicial
A: Las Iglesias en todo el Mundo.
A: Gobiernos y Al Cuerpo Diplomático acreditado en El Salvador
A: Las Naciones Unidas, OEA, Organismos Internaciones y La solidaridad internacional.

Desde este pequeño país, patria del Profeta Oscar Arnulfo Romero, como Iglesias Cristianas Históricas y sectores cristianos-Ecuménicos; enviamos este mensaje a las Iglesias y Religiones, hombres y mujeres de buena voluntad en el mundo, saludándoles desde nuestra fe al Dios único.

Titulamos esta Carta: "Alerta en El Salvador", porque vivimos de crisis en crisis, de emergencia en emergencia, desastres causados por fenómenos naturales, políticos, económicos y sociales. Ante emergencias y crisis la recomendación es “Estar Alerta”.- Alerta expresión de seguridad que significa estar despiertos, los oídos atentos y la mente despejada para poder vislumbrar y distinguir el peligro que nos amenaza, denunciando ese pecado, sin olvidar que también somos llamados a proclamar la Buena Noticia de la Vida Abundante y Verdadera. (San Mateo 25:46 y Romanos 1:17)

Pasados 15 años de los acuerdos de Paz, persisten las injustas condiciones de vida, por la mala distribución de la riqueza. El país no tiene seguridad alimentaría ni social. Los objetivos del Milenio no podrán cumplirse., por el contrario existe profundización generalizada de la pobreza. El gobierno tiene en total abandono la agricultura, la industria y crece de manera desmedida el comercio informal. La principal fuente de sostenimiento son las remesas familiares, de casi 3 millones de Salvadoreños /as que han emigrado a Estados Unidos y otras partes del Mundo. Nuestros jóvenes son víctimas y victimarios de la violencia que impera en el país. Violencia que abarca diferentes niveles y sectores. También existe la violencia institucionaliza que posibilita el crimen organizado, las maras, la corrupción e impunidad. Se mantiene el endeudamiento y bajo presupuesto para las áreas sociales. Y cuando los sectores sociales y ecologistas se manifiestan, son reprimidos, les toman como reos políticos bajo la figura de “terroristas”, son gentes, que solo defienden su derecho a vivir.

La coyuntura actual, nos alarma: se ha violentado el orden constitucional e institucional del Estado . Se han distorsionado, principios elementales del derecho, la constitución y la jurisprudencia universal, con la aprobación de leyes y reformas al Código Penal en su articulo 348, donde se incrementaron penas de una manera desproporcionada, imponiendo el miedo. Nos preocupa, que ante legitimas protestas de los diferentes sectores sociales, se responda con medidas de corte totalitario, leyes que transgreden los elementales derechos humanos, civiles y ambientales y que se están cerrando los espacios democráticos. El sistema institucional y el actual Gobierno funcionan sobre la base de la corrupción, la mentira, violencia y polarización trayendo como consecuencia un alto deterioro de la base ética y moral en su institucionalidad, legalidad y en general de la sociedad en su conjunto.

Nos alarma sobremanera, que ante la protesta pública El Estado Salvadoreño utiliza el mecanismo de contrareacción, endureciendo las leyes. Más que discursos y campañas publicitarias, la crisis que vivimos, demanda que se generen políticas estatales que resuelvan la problemática con responsabilidad, requiere de una gestión de Estado y de Gobierno, seria y decidida para atender las diferentes problemáticas que aquejan al pueblo Salvadoreño.

Nuestro Dios de la VIDA, NO puede estar de acuerdo con un Estado donde su relación con los ciudadanos marca una peligrosa polarización política, lo que puede llevar a una mayor confrontación y agudización de la intolerancia en el país. Jesús nos interpela, a denunciar tan grande sufrimiento que vive el pueblo, nos muestra el profundo amor que nos tiene y llama a levantar con fuerza nuestra voz, para dar un mensaje de esperanza y animándonos actuar en acción conjunta, ecuménica y solidaria, pacifica pero enérgica frente a esta problemática estructural, porque no es endureciendo las leyes y persiguiendo a cada Salvadoreño como se resolverán los problemas.

Nuevamente tenemos que recordar las palabras de Jesús “no es el hombre para la ley, sino la ley para el hombre” la misión propuesta es, cambiar todas aquellas condiciones que violentan la vida de las personas y construir las relaciones sobre la base de los valores de la verdad, honestidad, justicia, responsabilidad y la solidaridad humana. El sentimiento de compasión y solidaridad que tuvo Jesús por su pueblo es el mismo que nos mueve hoy por el nuestro, que esta : desamparado y disperso. Tenemos que construir nuevas relaciones, donde la Unidad Nacional se vuelve un proceso necesario e impostergable. Porque es un imperativo ético y evangélico, que sea la Justicia de Dios con su pueblo. Por eso en el nombre del Dios de la Vida, les pedimos a los y las salvadoreñas, que tomemos la decisión, con Fe, sin temor, de conquistar la utopía cristiana y sea con nosotros /as ese REINO DE DIOS (Isaías 32 1-8) .

Con firmeza nos comprometemos a seguir caminando y acompañando ese clamor de los pobres, que se plasma en la protesta pública, previniendo a quienes ostentan el poder económico y político en este país, que no hay reconciliación posible si la fuente de los males no se extermina, como lo ha demostrado la historia de los pueblos. Ha llegado la hora de poner por encima de los intereses particulares de individuos, grupos y sectores: los intereses de la nación; olvidándonos del clientelismo económico, político y religioso. (Efesios 4: 3-4)

Finalmente pedimos al Dios de la vida, nos de fortaleza para responder coherentemente desde la Fe y como Cristianos /as comprometidos en seguir sembrando esperanzas para con nosotros mismos y con aquellos que un día fincaron sus esperanzas en nosotros. Trabajemos por el consenso y la acción de todas las fuerzas vivas, productivas y organizadas, siendo sal y luz en este país, para la construcción de una sociedad que se base en los valores del Reino de Dios, que sustenten una DEMOCRACIA REAL Y UNA VIDA DIGNA, EN MEJORES CONDICIONES SOCIALES, ECONÓMICAS Y POLÍTICAS.

Nuestro llamado pastoral:

1. Al pueblo Salvadoreño a propiciar un verdadero encuentro como nación, posibilitando el entendimiento como hermanos/ as, hijos e hijas de Dios (Isaías 44: 1-5 ); que sean base para construir un amplio movimiento social de Unidad Nacional.

2. A los sectores académicos y científicos a tener un papel mas activo en la discusión, análisis y propuestas sobre el rumbo que debe seguir el país para encontrar alternativas a la crisis,

3. A las fuerzas productivas y a la gran empresa, proponer políticas de reactivación de la base productiva y cumplir con el pago de sus tributos, para que todas las y los salvadoreños y especialmente los jóvenes, encuentren su futuro dentro de nuestras fronteras y no en tierras lejanas.

4. A los partidos políticos , que cambien las posiciones de confrontación y pasen a una postura responsable, proponiendo políticas de Estado que contribuyan a dar rumbo al país por el camino del desarrollo, la justicia socioeconómica y la convivencia social.

5. A los tres poderes del estado, a mantener la independencia de cada uno, facilitar la participación ciudadana creando los espacios civilizados y democráticos en el marco de la institucionalidad para que los Salvadoreños /as construyamos un futuro mejor.

6. A todas las iglesias y religiones del país asumir el amor compasivo de Dios, acompañando activamente este proceso de consenso nacional, donde nuestros hermanos y hermanas, de manera preferencial los mas humildes y necesitados sean los principales sujetos de una propuesta de país democrática y justa.

7. A los Gobiernos del Mundo, a las Naciones Unidas, a la OEA, a los Organismos Internacionales, a las Iglesias del Mundo, a la Solidaridad Internacional, A nuestros amigos y amigas les pedimos su respaldo solidario, para apoyar en forma decidida, la construcción de un modelo democrático que sea garante de la Paz con justicia en El Salvador.

Firmamos.....

12 September 2007

I lift up my eyes to the hills


from where is my help to come? (Psalm 122.1)

I reach out to the blogging world asking your prayers for a 24 year-old in our congregation, Naomi.

Three weeks ago, she went to the doctor's, thinking she had a stress fracture in her foot. The radiologist saw a spot on her foot and called the orthopedic surgeon. They thought it was an infection, so they cleaned it out and sent off a specimen. It came back as Ewing's sarcoma, a cancer that is caused by part of the 11th chromosome moving to the 22nd. It mostly afflicts 10-20 year olds, 85% Caucasians.

She went to the doctor’s yesterday and found out the following:

-- the Ewing’s cancer has spread to her lungs, shoulder and spine but so far they don’t think it is in the bone marrow;

-- she will start next week a ten-week course of chemo that is rigourous (six hours, one day on, one day off, or two days a week);

-- at the end of that treatment, she will have her third toe and metatarsal removed and the rest of her foot will be joined together (they are trying to avoid amputating the whole thing; the next course of action would be to remove the top of her foot but keep her heel);

-- after that, she will undergo another ten-week treatment of chemo;

-- that will finally be followed by radiation.

The whole treatment is expected to last two years but the doctors say there is a 78% chance of her being cured and that is their goal.

This is an awful lot for a 24 year-old to absorb as well as her family. Her next-in-line sister (17), is having a really hard time with it. So do keep them in your prayers long-haul.

+

I put up a photo of the ascent to Mount Adams, Randolph, NH, because we always have the image of mountains being solid, unmoving, there for ever. Living with old, old mountains like the Vermont Greens, I think of how the mountains have been there for millennia and, God willing, will be there for many more. And so, I want to offer this young woman and her family the solidity of hope that these mountains symbolise.