“I have just four words to leave with you. Four words that have spoken volumes of truth into my life.’
He wanted the words to stay in the room, to remain long after he had gone. Though no one wished to hear Paul’s radical injunction, it had to be told.
‘In everything, give thanks.’
This was the lifeboat in any crisis. Over and over again, he had learned this, and over and over again, he had to be reminded.”
–Jan Karon, In This Mountain
Here’s something to read if you’ve forgotten the difference between Pilgrims and Puritans.
And here’s a prayer for the day in case, like me, your plans don’t include church today.
Almighty and gracious Father, we give you thanks for the fruits of the earth in their season and for the labors of those who harvest them. Make us, we pray, faithful stewards of your great bounty, for the provision of our necessities and the relief of all who are in need, to the glory of your Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
–Thanksgiving Day collect, BCP
[The first painting is by Anna S. Fisher, c. 1922; the second by David Reidel, b. 1956]
Sometimes we get caught up in all the things that are wrong with the world. And there are plenty. Like this. Sigh.
But we must remind ourselves how blessed we really are every day.
This past weekend I spent a lot of time puttering around my house, taking stock of what I have squirreled away for Christmas and what I still need to get. I found the Christmas cards I bought after Christmas last year–that sort of thing.
I talked to my daughters and dual personality on the phone. The OM and I had dinner with some old friends. Indeed, it was a quiet weekend.
We watched The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming (1966) which never ceases to amuse me.
The OM and I in a few years
We also watched Edge of Darkness (1943) a war movie about a small Norwegian fishing village rising up and revolting against the occupying Nazis.
Partisans dig their own graves in “The Edge of Darkness”
It was surprisingly edgy and well done I thought. I mean it is blatantly propagandistic and the sets are terrible, but dreamy Errol Flynn is ably supported by a good ensemble cast and you have to love a movie where the peaceful town minister comes through in a way that would make the Sons of Anarchy proud.
Anyway, I am counting my blessings this week and always.
Some leaves are still hanging on in the ‘hood.
I am thankful for TCM and our DVR, not to mention Netflix and streaming cable television shows. I am thankful for old friends and good books and Coffee Nips and red wine. I am thankful for my laptop and online shopping and Christmas cactus and being able to turn the heat on when the temperatures go down. I am thankful for being able to go down to the basement and do my laundry when I want to and that we could just go out and buy a new refrigerator when the old one conked out last week. These are things I do not take for granted.
Have a good week–only 2 1/2 days of work–and don’t forget to count your blessings!
*Joachim Neander, hymn #390 “Praise to the Lord the Almighty”
This is one of those event-packed Fridays when I think, if I can just get through today, I’m going to take it easy this weekend! That is my plan.
In the meantime, here are some postcards from my week.
St. Louis keeps watch over Art Hill.
The Ginko trees at my flyover university are awesome.
The Christmas cactus is blooming right on schedule!
And someone brought me cookies at work! 420 calories per 3-bite serving! Oh mein Gott!
And one reminder! Turner Classic Movies: TCM has revised its schedule to showcase a 24-hour tribute to Maureen O’Hara starting today, Friday, November 20. The 12-movie marathon begins at 6 am ET.
Now feel free to
Go forth into the world in peace; be of good courage; hold fast that which is good; render to no one evil for evil; strengthen the fainthearted; support the weak; help the afflicted; honor everyone; love and serve the Lord, rejoicing in the power of the Holy Spirit; and the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be among you and remain with you always. Amen.’ (from the service for Remembrance Sunday SPCK)
So in church on Sunday the readings were all apocalyptic. I do not believe in coincidence, so it was just awesomely appropriate. We had the book of Daniel and the letter to the Hebrews and we had the gospel of Mark with the Destruction of the Temple and Signs of the End Times.
And as he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings!” 2 And Jesus said to him, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another, that will not be thrown down.”
3 And as he sat on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately,4 “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign when these things are all to be accomplished?” 5 And Jesus began to say to them, “Take heed that no one leads you astray. 6 Many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. 7 And when you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is not yet. 8 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places, there will be famines; this is but the beginning of the birth-pangs.
I was the intercessor and we had a special prayer en français for the people of Paris. I was afraid I would have to read it along with the Prayers of the People, but the rector had asked a former French teacher to do it. I read the translation. After 12 years of French in school, I could have faked it, but I was relieved that I did not have to do so.
The rector, who spent a couple of years earlier in his ministerial career at the American Cathedral in Paris,
gave a personal and heartfelt sermon related to the terrorist attacks and to the lessons actually assigned for the day. We sang “Oh, God, our help in ages past” (#680) . Old Isaac Watts is hard to beat for keeping things in perspective.
Today in 1921 the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was dedicated by President Warren G. Harding at Arlington Cemetery.
And today is Veterans Day. So we remember American veterans, known and unknown.
Guy Russell Chamberlin and Arthur Newell Chamberlin at home in Burlington, Vermont pre-WWI
Here’s to two brothers who went to war–one came back and the other did not.
We’ll toast our grandfather Arthur and his brother Guy, our father Newell, all our other ancestors who served their country, and indeed, all veterans.
O Lord God of Hosts, stretch forth, we pray thee, thine almighty arm to strengthen and protect the [military] of our country. Support them in the day of battle, and in the time of peace keep them safe from all evil; endue them with courage and loyalty; and grant that in all things they may serve without reproach; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
How was your weekend? Mine was quite enjoyably low-key.
On Saturday evening the OM and I went to the members’ preview of the new exhibit “St. Louis Modern” at the SLAM.
Luckily, he found something right away to admire.
As readers of this blog know, my own home is filled with antiques and reproductions. My taste certainly leans toward 18th and 19th century American style. I am, however, a great appreciator of mid-century modern–i.e. the 20th century stuff of my youth. The aforementioned exhibit was full of the contents of some pretty great Bernoudy and Armstrong and Dunn homes and offices and included the design products of Charles Eames, Russel Wright, Eliel Saarinen, et al. It prompted me to look around my own house and find the odds ‘n ends of this period that I love.
I mean who doesn’t love mid-century modern pottery and china?
Church on Sunday was enjoyable–the only blip being when our female assisting priest referred in her sermon to Beethoven’s “Erotica” symphony instead of the “Eroica”. Talk about your Freudian slip! I refrained from correcting her after the service, because I hate people who do that. You know–the ones who look for typos to point out in newsletters etc. Like they’re being helpful. I always say, “I know everyone thinks I’m perfect, but really I’m not!”
I went to see The Yeoman of the Guard by Gilbert & Sullivan on Friday night.
The scene of this opera is laid within the precincts of the Tower of London, in the period of the 16th Century.
Admittedly, it was not the D’Oly Carte Opera Company, but I thought our local Winter Opera company was really quite wonderful.
My mother was a fan of Yeoman and we had the record.
I think she liked it because it is the only W&S opera with kind of a sad ending. She could always relate to the fool/jester character in anything and there is a stellar one in Yeoman.
Anyway, I dragged the OM and the boy along (daughter #3 was otherwise engaged) and they enjoyed it also. We were all proud of ourselves for getting out and participating in a cultural activity.
It reminded me of the time back in 1964 when my mother bought tickets to see the actual D’Oyly Carte Company perform The Mikado. She took my brother and me. I was in the second grade, but she thought I was old enough to enjoy/appreciate this opportunity. (She may have over-estimated me.) Anyway, my father took my little sister (who was not old enough to enjoy/appreciate light opera) to see It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Ironically this film was on TCM last week and I DVR’d it and then watched it this weekend. It features literally every American comedian (plus Terry-Thomas) alive in 1963. It is overly long and drags some, but it does have its moments. Jonathan Winters is great and the scene in the gas station with Arnold Stang and Marvin Kaplan is priceless. There is a lot of yelling in this movie.
Speaking of movies, I also watched From Hell (2001) on Halloween and, despite the presence of Johnny Depp, I thought it was dreadful. Apologies for recommending it on Friday!
Sunday, as you know, was All Saints Day and we had an interminably long service complete with a children’s sermon dissecting the hymn The Saints of God. Oh, did I mention it was also pledge Sunday? Well, it was. On top of this, the woman sitting behind me was a beat behind or a beat ahead during every prayer and every hymn to the point where I was ready to slap her and slap her hard. I hate feeling that way in church.
And now it is November and the long slide to Christmas begins. Deo gratias.
I had a very busy weekend. I went to a “Vintage Market Days” fair with my friends.
I went to an estate sale where I bought this little guy.
I bought a pumpkin at the neighborhood Methodist Church.
They were rockin’ it big time this year with face painting and a bouncy house and music–the whole nine yards. I just bought a pumpkin and regretted once again that I am not cool enough to be a Methodist.
I went out to dinner with the OM and some old friends. When we got home Bullitt was on TV, so I enjoyed an hour of Steve before falling asleep.
I went to church an hour early so that I could meet my “mentee” in the youth group room at church with the other confirmation mentors. I babbled like an idiot. Mine is a well-adjusted eighth grader who plays tennis and likes math–way ahead of me at that age–although I must say they all seemed so young and vulnerable. Especially the boys.
After church I cleaned my house up and made Episcopal Soufflé for my buddies who came over for dinner.
And now I’m back at the salt mine! Phew. Have a good week.
Today we say happy birthday to Edward Andrews, character actor extraordinaire and Episcopalian. He was born to be the senior warden** in some fancy church, don’t you think?
In actuality he was the son of an Episcopal minister, born in Georgia in 1914. He attended the University of Virginia, and at age 21, made his stage debut in 1935, progressing to Broadway the same year. His movie career didn’t take off until he was in his forties, but he was made for the movies. Of course you remember him. He was perfect as both the harried executive and the slightly sleazy politician/military type. He frequently played The Mayor.
Last weekend I watched Send Me No Flowers (1964) in honor of Rock Hudson, and Andrews was hysterical as the doctor who puts up with Rock’s hypochondria.
He is also great in The Thrill of it All (1963) with Doris Day and James Garner, playing the flustered older father-to-be and advertising executive.
He was a staple on television from the 1950s until he his death in 1985. He was everywhere.
Anyway, one of Andrews’ movies might be just the ticket tonight as I know darn well it will be too stressful to watch the Cardinals take on the Cubs. Of course everyone in 49 states and Kansas City will be rooting for the Cubs against the Cards. That is always the way it is in the post-season. I hate it, but what can I do?
Pray hard.
*Gardiner Fraleigh in The Thrill of It All
**The senior warden in an Episcopal Church works alongside the parish rector. Together they share with their congregation the mission and vision of the parish and manage its operations as well. They also identify and work with members of the congregation who show leadership qualities or abilities and model ways of incorporating the Gospel in their daily lives.
“God knows we have our own demons to be cast out, our own uncleanness to be cleansed. Neurotic anxiety happens to be my own particular demon, a floating sense of doom that has ruined many of what could have been, should have been, the happiest days of my life, and more than a few times in my life I have been raised from such ruins, which is another way of saying that more than a few times in my life I have been raised from death – death of the spirit anyway, death of the heart – by the healing power that Jesus calls us both to heal with and to be healed by.”
― Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons
I can surely relate to what Frederick Buechner is saying here, although I wouldn’t classify it as neurotic anxiety exactly. I just have always had a morbid imagination, always thinking about what might happen, especially concerning loved ones.
At the evensong service on Sunday the choir sang an anthem based on a poem by Robert Herrick (1591–1674):
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown’d in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
I was reminded that people back in the seventeenth century lay in bed at night and obsessed over problems too. I must say that I do find comfort in that.
And as I always say to the boy after one of our overwrought discussions of current events, God is in control. It is good to remember that.
The evensong service ends with the wonderful prayer for mission:
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give thine angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for thy love’s sake. Amen.
You can’t go wrong with this prayer at bedtime. Keep it on your bedside table. Envision those angels watching over you and your loved ones. It helps to dissipate that floating sense of doom.
dual personalities 