dual personalities

Tag: church

You know my sitting down and my rising up”*

by chuckofish

We had a nice weekend in flyover land with temperatures in the low eighties and low humidity. That is about as good as it gets here in the summer and I am grateful.

Daughter #1 came home and we enjoyed some normal weekend-y activities. The boy and I also went in his truck to pick up a “new” vintage camelback sofa I had bought at our local antique mall last week. Now we have to deal with disposing of our old sofa, which, believe me, is not easy!

We went to church on Sunday where we heard a good, long sermon on Luke 16:1-13, a hard parable, which the preacher met head-on. Later in the afternoon the OM and I returned for the fall ministry kickoff picnic which was actually a lot of fun. Everyone is returning to school and that means that the summer, I guess, is more or less officially over. Sigh.

I was sad to read that the College Hill Presbyterian Church in Oxford, Mississippi, had burned to the ground. The church was built in 1846 and was the oldest church structure in Oxford, as well as the oldest Presbyterian church in all of North Mississippi. The grounds of the church were used by Union troops under Generals Grant and Sherman during the Civil War, and it is where William Faulkner was married.

Before the fire

In other news, a ridiculous story has recently been making the rounds of social media claiming that six security men had to hold back John Wayne from assaulting Sacheen Littlefeather at the 1973 Academy Awards. Blogger Farran Smith Nehme, aka the Self-Styled Siren, has now thoroughly researched and debunked this fantasy in a well-written article. People have no shame nowadays about lying and spreading more lies.

But this story about the Samaritan’s Purse volunteers helping people right here in St. Louis is uplifting. They walk the walk. Check out the video.

Also, Katiebelle got a haircut…

…and she approved…

And here’s R.C. Sproul explaining flat-out nonsense:

Well, have a good week!

*Psalm 139: 2

“Fair is the sunshine, fair is the moonlight, robed in the blooming garb of spring”*

by chuckofish

Well, on last Thursday night we had quite a thunderstorm, which actually was a EF0 tornado two blocks away. I’m not kidding. I was standing in the front door watching when the straight line wind came through (80 mph!) but it didn’t seem like a really big deal or anything.

But I guess it was.

(photo from KSDK.com)

On Saturday morning the OM and I went to my friend Nicki’s memorial service which had been postponed since January. We had to drive there in a thunderous gulley-washer, arriving, like everyone else, rather wet and bedraggled from the hike from our car. (This church–with the largest Episcopal congregation in the diocese–has no parking lot and you have to find parking spots on a residential street the best you can–zut alors!)

As you know, I have always loved the Episcopal Burial Office, Rite I, especially the procession–

I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord;
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live;
and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.

I know that my Redeemer liveth,
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth;
and though this body be destroyed, yet shall I see God;
whom I shall see for myself and mine eyes shall behold,
and not as a stranger.

For none of us liveth to himself,
and no man dieth to himself.
For if we live, we live unto the Lord.
and if we die, we die unto the Lord.
Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s.

Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord;
even so saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors.

The semi-professional choir (wearing masks) sang it, however, as they did the psalms, and so it seemed like a theater production. This is how they like it at this church. So be it.

We skipped the reception at the St. Louis Country Club and came home so we could go to the high school graduation party of our neighbor across the street. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for this cute boy because he reminds me of DN. He is going to Montana State so he can hike and fish and ski. I said, you know you have to go to class too, right? He chuckled. But really. Why do people go to college nowadays? Anyway, it was a lot of socializing for one day. I watched the PGA tournament thereafter.

On Sunday it was good to be back in our own church alongside the wee babes. We had brunch afterwards and then they all went home and the weekend wound down.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

Hymn #642

P.S. This was cool about a unique Cardinals-Giants baseball game played last week. “We tend to think of life as a game to be won rather than a game to be enjoyed. We feel the pressure to determine the outcome. But what if we already know the outcome? We no longer need to worry about whether we will win or lose because those of us who are in Christ have both lost and won. Because he died and now lives, we have also died with him, and we will live with him (2 Tim 2:11). So if that’s the case, what do we have to lose?”

I am glad to see that Paul Zahl is back with his recommendations for TCM films to watch in June. “The Hoodlum Priest is the kind of movie that was popular and successful when it came out, but the critical “establishment” would like it to stay in a memory hole forever. Please don’t let that happen. Stay up and watch The Hoodlum Priest on June the 11th!”

Have a good week!

*Hymn #170, Munster Gesangbuch, 1677

Gracious God, my heart renew, make my spirit right and true…

by chuckofish

cast me not away from thee, let thy Spirit dwell in me…*

It was a quiet weekend…except for an earthquake on Friday evening!

The OM and I were watching the news when we thought we heard two loud booms and the house shook for a second. We thought it might be a) an earthquake, b) an explosion or c) a bad car crash. Daughter #1 texted a little while later that she had received a ‘push alert’ about an earthquake in Valley Park.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change
And though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea;
Though its waters roar and foam,
Though the mountains quake at its swelling pride. Selah.

–Psalm 46: 2-3

What next? Do we dare ask?

I cajoled the OM into accompanying me on Saturday to an open house held at the 1816 log house in Affton, MO, which will be disassembled and moved to the Thomas Sappington House Historic Site in Crestwood.

This is a great example of a small local group working tirelessly to preserve a small piece of history. They are still raising money so that the two Sappington cousins’ houses built in the early 1800s – Thomas’ brick house, now a museum, and Joseph’s log house (above)–can be preserved together. (The log cabin is currently located in a residential area, surrounded by small homes, and has been lived in by private owners all these years.)

There are lots of people who could just write a big check and make this happen but historic preservation is not high on most people’s priority lists these days. C’est la vie. It will happen, one small donation at a time.

On Sunday we met up with the boy and the wee twins at church per usual and then headed home afterwards for some brunch and driveway sittin’. (It was perfect weather for driveway sittin’ but I have no pictures of us just sittin’…)

Waitin’ for brunch with my old Tyrolean village…
Practising that nice PGA swing
We hauled out the old shopping cart–always a fave

And we always have fun looking for the hidden animals in the yard…

…and seeing what’s about to bloom…Iris buds!

I was struck in church by the thought of how blessed I was to be sitting between my husband and my grown son. This, after decades of being the “Widow Compton” at my old Episcopal Church, is not a small thing. (One old lady even thought I had married the actual widower with whom I generally shared a pew!) But the menfolk in my family like the new church–and no wonder–it is full of men! (I like it for that reason too.) Discuss among yourselves.

I watched the Horse Soldiers (1959) in honor of Ulysses Grant and Bing Russell and thoroughly enjoyed it.

It is such a great movie. I don’t understand why it is so often considered to be one of John Ford’s lesser films. The stars are great together and the supporting cast is without parallel in my opinion. It was filmed on location in Mississippi and so has an authenticity a lot of Civil War dramas lack. (Compare the plantation Greenbriar in this movie to Tara.) Ford himself tended to dismiss the film, in large part I think because a stuntman was killed while filming. This greatly upset him and he ended filming the movie abruptly and returned to California.

Matthew Brady takes a picture.

Nevertheless, it is one of my favorites.

It is supposed to rain on and off again all week, but oh well. I’ll find something to do.

*The Psalter, 1912

What then shall we say to these things?

by chuckofish

This weekend I stepped out of my comfort zone and ventured to an estate sale in a part of town that is terra incognita to me. Daughter #2 was in Jeff City so I had no trusty co-pilot…but I found the house without a problem. It was in Affton, a tiny house that would usually never tempt me, but the pictures on the estate sale website had led me to believe that it might be worthwhile because there were lots of Ehrman needlepoint pillows, finished, unfinished and unopened kits. A veritable treasure trove of the best kits from the U.K.! Even though I arrived within an hour of opening, a lot of the best pillows and all the kits were already gone. However, upon investigation, I soon discovered that the woman who had made all the pillows and sewed all the kits was not a very accomplished needlepointer. They were all trapezoidal, not square, and nothing had been blocked. Her stitching was terrible. What a shame!

I bought one that had not yet been made into a pillow in memory of the devoted needlepointer, but I am uncertain pretty sure it can’t be salvaged.

I also bought a good book…

…which happened to have the woman’s name in it. It sounded vaguely familiar and I was curious, so I googled her. It turns out she went to my old Episcopal church! Zut alors–the world is so small.

We had another great sermon in church on Sunday. It was on Romans 8:31-39, one of the greatest passages in scripture.

31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? 33 Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? 36 As it is written:

“For Your sake we are killed all day long;
We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.”

37 Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. 38 For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, 39 nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

As usual, I cried during every hymn. All these tears made me think of what Frederick Buechner wrote about tears…

Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention.  They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go to next. 

–Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

Nevertheless, it is kind of embarrassing and I need to stop wearing mascara to church.

The boy and his wee family joined us at church and then came over for brunch. The sun wasn’t out, but it was warm enough to do a little exploring in the yard after our meal…

…and I put the wee babes to work picking up sticks after a very windy winter…

This is a game they enjoy. (Lottie made believe we were going to have a bonfire. Make-believe bonfires are the best.) I went out and bagged it up later.

How was your weekend?

Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe;

Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as now.

Elvina M. Hall, 1865

Hey, baby. There ain’t no easy way out*

by chuckofish

Mood. Life just keeps getting weirder, right? But we try to persevere in our own small way. Chin chin.

Happily, daughter #1 came home on Friday and we spent a nice weekend doing what I like to think of as normal things. We went to our new favorite place for happy hour and then came home and listened to music. The OM provided dinner. On Saturday we went to two estate sales and bought a few books and a couple of other do-dads. We went out to lunch. On Saturday night we watched the first part of The Ten Commandments (1956) which, between Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner and John Derek, features a lot of old fashioned male pulchritude.

As I’ve noted before, the film really holds up and we will watch the second half at a later date (we know how it ends.)

Sunday morning I made a tater tot casserole to serve for lunch after church. Then we all met up with the boy and his petite famille at church where we sang our Presbyterian hymns lustily and listened to a long sermon on Acts 20: 28-38 by the youth minister about being attentive to yourself (in respect to grace), to one another and to the Gospel. I am so happy to leave church feeling joyful and not annoyed as was previously always the the case. (The boy was annoyed because we sang Rock of Ages with the alternate tune, but this is a small price to pay for doctrinal satisfaction in my opinion.)

Lord, how delightful ’tis to see

A whole assembly worship thee!

At once they sing, at once they pray;

They hear of heaven, and learn the way.

With thoughts of Christ and things divine

Fill up this foolish heart of mine;

That, hoping pardon through his blood,

I may lie down, and wake with God.

(Isaac Watts)

After church we finally celebrated daughter #3’s birthday which was delayed from earlier in January because she was sick and then quarantined.

It had been almost a month since we had seen them! The wee laddie got a chance to drive the Raptor so he was a happy camper.

I suppose this may all sound extremely dull, but for me it was lovely and I am thankful. I am thankful that my husband went out in the cold and brought home a fast food dinner. I am thankful that my daughter spun records for me. I am even thankful that my grandson said he didn’t want to come over to my house after church because it is weird and ugly, but then he did and ate conversation hearts and a donut and was quite content. Life is weird and ugly, but there are also donuts.

Anyway, I am now a certified nerd because I actually understood these two Babylon Beestories” and they made me laugh out loud.

*Tom Petty

Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation

by chuckofish

The last weekend before Christmas has passed and I am ready for the big day. I got the tree up and decorated with the help of the boy who came over twice–once after work to put the tree up and once before work to do the lights. I then put up the decorations by myself. Voila–not the best shaped tree ever, but who cares? It’s pretty. I also put up my stained glass collection.

The boy and his little family were in Kansas City this weekend and daughter #1 stayed in JC, so the OM and I went to church unaccompanied–twice. We went in the morning and again at 6:00 pm, because the farewell party for our senior pastor followed the evening service. After 15 years he is moving on to a bigger church in McLean, Virginia and they are lucky to get him–such a good preacher! It is typical that this is happening when I have just found a great new church (and denomination), but I trust that we will get a new senior pastor that is equally gifted.

In a funny way I am thankful that the Covid shutdowns happened, because it forced me to go online to find somewhere to worship and in turn that got me looking seriously at alternatives to the Episcopal Church. I mean, finding a church in Charlottesville, VA did me no good once we were back in church. I had been listening to Tim Keller sermons on YouTube for a long time, but my learning curve really went into hyperdrive when I discovered R.C. Sproul on Ligonier.org. Since Ligonier emphasizes the importance of the local church, once things reopened I felt a strong pull to find a Reformed church in St. Louis. I did more research, and remembering the PCA church I passed on my way to chemotherapy all through 2019,

I tried Covenant on Easter Sunday. I felt instantly at home although I knew not a soul there. In our newcomer class I met a man who had the exact same experience with his online search–starting with R.C. Sproul videos. He was coming from the Roman Catholic Church and we bonded over our shared positive searches. Tim Keller! R.C. Sproul! Alistair Begg! Clearly we are not alone in our endeavors.

This is the upside of the internet– teaching resources like Ligonier’s can now be easily accessed all over the world. You can go to YouTube and watch endless hours of excellent teaching for free. (I love the Q&A sessions where you can hear a variety of these learned men answering questions.) Indeed, Ligonier has over 2,500,000 YouTube channel plays per month! I encourage you to check it out!

There is usually a silver lining in every negative situation, if you look for it, right?

Be of good cheer.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Postcards from the weekend

by chuckofish

Kilroy was (t)here. (We missed you!)

I hope everyone had a lovely Easter weekend. Mine was exhausting! SO much social activity after weeks, months, a year of not much going on.

I was busy on Friday getting ready for Saturday.

Mimosas are a good start to any party.

Liz got emotional opening daughter #1’s handmade baby blankets. After a yummy lunch (chicken salad, of course) we sat outside in the sun and watched the wee babes frolic on the driveway. After her husband picked Liz up and daughter #3 went home with the babes, we went to pick up margaritas at Club Taco. We finished Ben Hur, which we had started the night before.

On Easter morning we got up early and went to the 8:00 am service at an actual church. It felt great to sit in a pew again and sing hymns. God-honoring worship with the Word of God faithfully preached and the Lord’s Supper celebrated was much appreciated. It will take awhile to get used to not kneeling and to drinking grape juice at communion, but I think I can manage.

When we got home, I made Episcopal Souffle (ironic, yes) and then the boy and his family came over. The babes opened their Easter baskets.

Daughter #1 gave the wee laddie a book on Porsches (estate sale find), which he opened to squeals of joy. He carried it around for the rest of the day.

Note the book in back of the Cooper (ingenious)

We had a super fun egg hunt.

Once again we sat on the driveway in the glorious sun and watched the world bicycle/drive/stroll by. Two days of beautiful spring weather and a little social interaction can do wonders for one’s spirits.

And now it’s Monday. What the…

“Make no mistake: if he rose at all
It was as His body;
If the cell’s dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,
The amino acids rekindle,
The Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
Each soft spring recurrent;
It was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled eyes of the
Eleven apostles;
It was as His flesh; ours.

The same hinged thumbs and toes
The same valved heart
That—pierced—died, withered, paused, and then regathered
Out of enduring Might
New strength to enclose.

Let us not mock God with metaphor,
Analogy, sidestepping, transcendence,
Making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the faded
Credulity of earlier ages:
Let us walk through the door.”

— from John Updike’s Seven Stanzas at Easter